Chapter Seven.

Chapter Seven.It would be impossible thoroughly to describe the feelings of disappointment which the Englishmen experienced when they discovered that they were caught like fish in a net. The Portugals were advancing along the rocks on both sides of the harbour, and in the narrow channel where they were they would all be shot down, or must yield directly they were summoned. In vain they tried to break through the chain. Again and again they dashed the stem of their boat against it. No weapon of sufficient strength to cut it was to be found in the boat. Dick and another man leaped overboard, and, balancing themselves on the chain, attempted to lift the boat over, but she was far too heavy to allow them a chance of success. Hitherto the Portugals had not fired; it might have been because they believed that Donna Isabel was with them, or that, having to scramble along the rocks, they had left their weapons behind them.“Oh, boys! if we had but a place to swim to, we’d swim rather than be caught by these baboon-faced Portugals,” cried Dick, as he reluctantly re-entered the boat.Lights were now seen as if on the water itself.“The Portugals have launched some boats, and are coming in pursuit!” shouted Lizard.“Never mind, lads; if we can but get through their chain, we’ll hold them a long chase yet. Now, lads, a hearty pull and pull all together.”Heartily the seamen did pull, and stove in the bow of the boat, and sprang every one of their oars. With no very complimentary remarks on the Portugals’ rotten spars, they broke them completely in two, and each man, grasping the inner end, prepared to use it as a quarter-staff. Scarcely had they thus armed themselves when three boats dashed up alongside them. Several voices ordered them to yield themselves prisoners.“Yield ourselves prisoners!” exclaimed Dick. “Come and take us, you blackguards! We’ll just have the pleasure of cracking some of your skulls first.”Although the Portugals did not understand Dick’s polite observations, they concluded from the tone of his voice that they were not conciliatory, and therefore, with threats of vengeance, they pressed round them. Great was their astonishment and indignation as they were about to jump on board the fugitives’ boat to find showers of blows descend on their heads with such hearty good-will, that with many a cracked skull they sprang back into their own boats faster than they had left them. The Portugals in the boats so thickly surrounded the English that the former could not use their fire-arms, while those on the rocks were also afraid to fire for fear of hitting their friends. Bravely and gallantly the seamen held out.“Hurrah for the true English quarter-staves, lads!” cried Dick, as he dealt blow after blow on the heads of the Portugals, his example being ably followed by the rest of the men.Edward shouted and encouraged his followers, though less vociferously. Several of the Portugals were knocked overboard; others, stunned, fell back into the bottom of their boats; and others, with broken arms and bruised shoulders, shouted—“Treachery! treachery! Help! help! Fire! fire!” and all sorts of cries, under the belief that the numbers of the fugitives were far greater than was the case.As long as the enemy could be kept at close quarters the English had greatly the advantage; but at length so greatly worsted were the Portugals that the survivors and the unmaimed, getting out their oars, and shoving off from the boat which contained the audacious English, fairly took to flight, and pulled away up the harbour, maliciously shouting as they went—“Fire! fire at the chain!”Their cries were heard, and the rattle of fire-arms followed, and the bright flashes were seen, while the shot whistled over the only spot at which the prisoners could hope to make their escape, even if they could manage to cut or force the chain. As it would have been certain death to make the attempt, Raymond proposed a still more daring scheme—to pull up the harbour after the Portugal boats, to board one of them before the people had recovered from their panic, to seize their arms, and then to try and make terms with the enemy, or to die fighting bravely with weapons in their hands which might be used at a longer distance than could their quarter-staves. The idea was no sooner suggested than put into execution. The boats had only gone up a short distance, and before the Portugals were aware that they were pursued, the English, with their dreaded quarter-staves, were battering away on their skulls, and in a few seconds had possessed themselves of all the fire-arms, ammunition, and swords to be found on board. Another boat was overtaken, and before those on board had recovered from their astonishment they were also deprived of their arms. The English now dashed on so as to reach the shore before their opponents, and be ready to stand on their defence. Their success was greater than they anticipated. As the Portugals were looking in other directions, no one opposed them, and they had time not only to leap on shore, but to reach a rock on the beach which Raymond recollected so close to the water that it prevented any one approaching on that side, while the rock itself formed a rampart in front, behind which they could fight. Here Edward found himself with Dick Lizard and ten other men, some of them more or less wounded, but all able to use their weapons. Although they knew that they must ultimately be starved out or overwhelmed by numbers, yet, like brave men, they agreed not to yield while resistance could by any possibility avail them. Some time passed—no enemy appeared. What were the Portugals about to do? was the question.“They don’t know where we’ve got to, and they’re boasting that they’ve killed us,” suggested Dick in a low voice.Edward had still a lingering hope that they might escape. The minutes were very long, but they increased into hours, and at last the day dawned, and Dick, looking out from behind his hiding-place, could see the Portugals scattered about among the rocks near the harbour still looking for them. Daylight, however, exhibited the boat on the beach, and the marks of their feet on the sand. Their place of refuge was soon discovered, and now in numbers the Portugals came crowding up from all quarters, thinking that they were about to take their prey on easy terms, and vowing vengeance on their heads. The rock, however, formed a breastwork which no bullets could penetrate, nor even could round shot from ordnance make any impression on it. The shape was that of a half-moon, the convex side being towards the shore, with the two horns running some way into the water where it was too deep for any one to wade, except the sea was unusually smooth.On the sea side there was deep water, outside of which was a ledge of broken rocks here and there showing their heads, forming a barrier no boats could pass, with what may be described as a lagoon of smooth water inside the rocks. Thus Raymond and his party were completely protected from the sea, unless a boat could be dragged overland and launched beyond the rock into the lagoon. This could easily have been done under ordinary circumstances, but any persons now attempting it would have been exposed to the fire of the English from the rock. Edward had noted some of the advantages offered by the rock as a place where a few determined men might defend themselves, but the strength of its position surpassed his expectations. It was the recollection of this rock which made him propose the bold attack on the Portugals in their boats which proved so successful. Some of the Portugals, it was observed, advanced bravely enough, but others, whose heads were bandaged, though they shouted and urged on their countrymen, hung back, and seemed in no way inclined to encounter the daring Englishmen. Dick Lizard pointed them out to his companions.“Ha, ha! the varlets!” he exclaimed. “They know the flavour of our English quarter-staves, and don’t want a second taste of them.”Raymond had no necessity to counsel his men to be steady, for every one had his weapons ready, and stood as cool as if no enemy were advancing to the attack. Still the number of their opponents was sufficient to daunt the stoutest hearts. Not only were there Portugals, but swarthy natives in light garments and long matchlocks, nimble fellows who looked capable of climbing over the rocks like wildcats, and proving troublesome at close quarters. There were some gayly-bedecked cavaliers on horseback, but of them the seamen took but little account.“All we’ve to do, lads, is to kill the steeds, and then your horsemen become clumsy footmen,” exclaimed Lizard as he saw them galloping up over the sand-hills from the interior.The Portugals, who, like wise men, seemed to be lovers of long shots, began to fire towards the rock, not all together nor taking good aim, but as each man thought he could hit an enemy without being hit himself. The leaden bullets mostly flew high overhead, but a few came spluttering against the rock to fall flattened into the crevices or to roll down into the sand. Edward ordered his followers to keep under cover, he alone watching the progress of their foes. On they came, the showers of shots increasing in thickness, but being perfectly innocuous. The nearer they got the higher the shot flew, so that no harm was done except to the Portugals themselves by the bursting of some of their fire-arms.“Wait, lads, till they get close up to the rock, and then fire and knock over the foremost dozen at the least,” he cried out. “Maybe they won’t expect the warm reception we can give them.”Raymond, like a good officer, having made the utmost of his position and taken every proper precaution to insure success, did his best to encourage his men and to make them despise their enemies. Foolish and ignorant officers neglect the necessary preparations and precautions, and yet fancy that they are exhibiting their bravery by despising their foes. This has ever been a great cause of defeat and disaster. There was a pause. The Portugals had not the heart to make a rush forward, and the English were unwilling to throw their precious shot away.The Portugals were seen to halt, as if to hold a consultation. The perfect quietness of the English alarmed them more than loud shouting and noise would have done. They did not know what to make of it.“Ha! ha! they’ve no stomach for the fight,” whispered Dick, who had popped up his head to see what was going forward. “They’re just thinking whether they’ll go back to their wives and families, or come on and be shot. We’ll teach them the wisest thing to do.”The pause was broken by the sound of a trumpet, and a cavalcade was seen approaching from the direction of the castle. As it drew near, Edward recognised by his dress and bearing Don Lobo at its head. An officer was now seen to gallop forward towards what might be called the storming party, but that they appeared to have no great inclination to storm. His message seemed to expedite their movements, and with loud shouts and a hotter fire they once more advanced. Finding also that the garrison of the rock did not reply, their courage increased as did their shouts and their speed, although it requires a stout heart to march towards an enemy over heavy sand.“They’ll go back, an’ I mistake not, faster than they are coming on,” whispered Dick.“Steady, my merry men,” cried Raymond as the Portugals were crowding on within a few paces of the rock.Numbers had already begun to climb its slippery sides, pressing on each other, the hinder ones urging on those in front, the rearmost feeling their valour at the highest pitch, when Edward perceived that the time for action had arrived.“Now, lads, give it them!” he exclaimed, setting the example by firing his piece, which was of the blunderbuss genus, rammed full of shot, and knocking over three if not more of the stormers. The rest of the party discharged their fire-arms at the same moment, lodging their contents in the bodies of some score or more of their assailants. They, the most part killed, with many who, though unhurt, were terribly alarmed, tumbled back on their comrades in the rear, all rolling down the rock together, and so thoroughly bedabbled with blood that it appeared as if the whole party were desperately wounded. This damped the courage of the rest. Some stood irresolute, others actually ran, and others shouted to their comrades to go on, but did not themselves advance. This enabled the English seamen to reload their fire-arms, and as it was evident that the fight would be carried on at close quarters, each man put as many shot into his piece as it would hold.“Now we are ready once more for the Portugals! Hurrah, lads! give it them again!” shouted Dick, while the enemy hesitated to advance.Several fire-arms had been taken from the boats besides those of which each man had possessed himself. These were also loaded and placed ready for use. The spirits of the seamen rose as they saw the way in which the first attack had been repulsed. Of the future they did not think. Edward, on the contrary, could not help thinking of the result, and felt that their lives must be sacrificed in the end, and that, as they had resolved to sell them dear, the longer they fought was but adding to their price. Still he kept his courage up and resolved to persevere to the end. Still the enemy did not advance. The governor was seen in the distance, and appeared to be furious at the hesitation of his men. Message after message was sent to them to goad them on. The trumpets sounded the charge, and with shouts and cries they once more advanced to climb the rock. Again Edward allowed them to approach till the most daring had got high enough to bring their breasts up to the muzzles of the pieces.“Fire, my merry men, fire!” he shouted.The result was even more terrible than at first, and numbers of killed and wounded men rolled back on their comrades, throwing their ranks once more into confusion. This time, however, others attempted to come on, but Edward, leaving two of his party to reload the fire-arms, led on the rest armed with their quarter-staves, and leaping on the rock gave the foe so unexpected a reception that they were driven helter-skelter back and fairly put to flight. Edward restrained his men from firing a volley after them, as ammunition was too precious to be thrown away. This success gave them a short breathing-time. Raymond had little hopes, however, of obtaining fair and honourable terms. Carrying off their wounded, but leaving their dead under the rock, the Portugals withdrew to a distance.The Englishmen had time now to consider their position and what was to be done. They were as unanimous as at first in determining to hold out to the last gasp. Indeed, Edward reminded them that if they yielded they would certainly be put to death. Without saying any thing, Dick slipped from among the rest, and with a large knife in his hand rushed into the water. He speedily returned with a large bunch of clams and other shell-fish.“Ha! ha! the Portugals will not starve us out as quickly as they think,” he exclaimed triumphantly. “That’s the reason, I take it, that they hold back.”Probably Dick was right in his conjecture. There was no want of driftwood under the rock, and, though raw shell-fish have often been eaten, even seamen prefer them cooked. A fire was soon lighted, and all the garrison were speedily employed in roasting the shell-fish. The Portugals on seeing the smoke must have guessed its cause, for they were soon again seen assembling to renew the attack. Edward saw that the time had come when they must prepare to die like brave men, for he could not hope to repulse another attack as successfully as he had done the first. Often did the brave band wish they were on the deck of a stout ship prepared to do battle on somewhat equal terms, with a prospect of victory in the end, or at worst to go down with colours flying to find their graves in the element they loved so well. Ever and anon, and naturally enough, they turned a wistful gaze over the ocean, and a sail was now descried in the horizon. The circumstance could scarcely give rise to hope, and yet often and often, as men would do, they turned their eyes in the same direction to watch her progress. She was, however, not directly approaching the shore, for the land breeze yet blew strongly off it, but she was standing along it close-hauled from the southward.“She is edging in for the land!” cried Dick Lizard. “She may be a Portugal, or a Spaniard, or a Hollander; but oh, boys! she may—she may be an honest Englishman, and bring us help at our great need.”“The Lord grant that so it may be!” said Edward, who, without pretension, had true religious principles, and was not ashamed of his feelings. “We are in his hands. Let us pray for protection, and he will not desert us.”And then and there, on the sand and rocks, like sturdy believers as they were, they knelt down, with their arms in their hands, and humbly poured out their petition to Heaven for aid. Then they rose and looked out for the enemy. The land wind, as has been said, was blowing, and the heat was very great, especially on the sands, and the Portugals seemed rather inclined to take their siesta than to fight with enemies whom they believed they had got securely in a trap from which they could not ultimately escape death or capture.As the sun rose the wind died away, and the heat became almost unbearable. Some of Edward’s party declared that they should be roasted alive, and that they felt themselves bubbling and hissing already.“Never mind, lads, a plunge in the sea will soon cool us; and that’s what I propose we take to when our ammunition is all gone,” cried Dick.Even while he was talking, however, a ripple was seen to play over the surface of the lagoon, and a faint breeze fanned their scorched cheeks.“Hurrah, lads! here comes the honest sea wind,” exclaimed Dick. “May it blow us good luck!”Stronger and stronger it blew, and now the strange ship was seen to be rapidly approaching the land under all sail, having squared away her yards before it. Had the Portugals been more wide awake they would have long since seen her. They seemed, indeed, in no way disconcerted at her appearance. After a time, the Portugal flag was seen flying at her peak, and they were evidently prepared to welcome her as a friend. The hopes of most of the party again sank low. Dick, however, constantly kept his eye on the stranger, scanning her sails and rigging and lofty hull. He had not much time to engage in this agreeable occupation before Raymond called his men to their posts, for the enemy were seen mustering in great numbers, probably ashamed that their countrymen should find them kept at bay by a mere handful of foreigners. Don Lobo himself rode forth from the castle with his staff of officers, and drums beat, and trumpets brayed, and cymbals clashed as the troops rushed forward to the assault. On they came.“Steady as before, my brave men, and we’ll beat them off again,” cried Edward.Up the rock they climbed with fierce shouts and denunciations of vengeance, but the same mistake was again committed as at first—the bravest had been allowed to go first, the more cowardly following. Again the little English band of heroes let fly their pieces, knocking over the leaders, who, falling back, threw the rest into disorder. Some struggled on, and the English quarter-staves again came into use. Several of the English were, however, wounded by the pistols of the Portugals. Raymond got a severe cut on his left arm, and a bullet went through the brain of another man. Still the seamen struggled on, and making a rush all together, drove the Portugals once more to the bottom of the rock. Now, had the cowards led the way they would have undoubtedly been killed by the volley of the English; but before the latter could reload, the braver men would have been upon them, and would probably have ended the unequal contest. As it was, so great was the awe inspired by the English seamen’s determined bravery, that it was some time before the Portugals could be again brought up to the attack.During the interval the stranger ship had approached as near the shore as it was safe to venture, and had there cast anchor, just beyond the range of the guns of the castle. Several boats were seen to be lowered from her lofty sides. They were at once filled with men and pulled towards the shore, under cover of the ship’s guns. The ship had come to an anchor while the fighting was going forward, and no sooner were the enemy repulsed than Lizard turned his eyes towards the ocean to ascertain what the stranger was about. He took a steady gaze at her, and then giving a loud slap with his hand on his thigh, he exclaimed—“The Lion, lads, the Lion! Hurrah! Old England for ever! Hurrah!”His shouts made all his companions turn their eyes in the same direction, and so absorbed were they in gazing at the stranger, that had the enemy stormed at that moment the little English band would have been cut to pieces. A second glance was not necessary to convince Edward that the ship he saw was indeed the Lion herself.The Portugals, it seemed by their movements, began to have some suspicions of the character of the stranger, and of the object of the boats in coming on shore. It made them still more eager to recapture their former prisoners, and to retire to the fort. Doubly resolved, however, were Raymond and his men to hold out till their countrymen could come to their rescue. The boats were steering for a bay between the rock and the castle. Again the Portugals began to assail the rock with fierce cries of vengeance. The seamen shouted in return. Hotter and hotter grew the fight; the eleven defenders of the rock stood boldly at bay, hurling the Portugals down the rock, casting their pistols, which they snatched from their hands, after them, and often bringing their own quarter-staves into play. Still, from loss of blood and the constant attacks of the enemy, their strength began to fail; even Edward felt that nature would give way, when the stranger’s boats reached the beach. Each boat was full of men, who leaped on shore and formed in two parties—one pushing towards the castle, the other, shouting “St. George and Merry England!” towards the rock. On they came. There was no doubt that they were friends. Some of the Portugals faced about to meet them; but so furiously did the strangers charge, that, after exchanging several blows, resulting in not a few cracked skulls, those who could run took to their heels and fled. Edward, seeing this, charged down on his assailants, driving them before him to the bottom of the rock, which his friends at the same moment reached. The remainder of the enemy, finding themselves between two fires, made no attempt at defence, but as many as could escape ran off inland, the rest being cut to pieces or made prisoners.Hearty were the greetings as shipmates, long separated, clasped the hands of shipmates—for the new-comers were the brave Lions. Raymond’s first inquiry was for Antony Waymouth.“The captain is leading the other party,” was the answer. “Our orders are to push on to join him.”“Oh, let us go!” cried Edward, forgetting his wounds, fatigue, and every thing, and eager only to join his friend.On they went over the hot sands, not altogether unmolested; for the Portugals fired at them from a distance, and here and there one of the party was hit; but no one seemed to care for wounds—the Castle of San Pedro, with the reputed riches of its savage governor, was to be their prize. The two parties met under the walls. There was a short but hearty greeting between Antony Waymouth and Edward Raymond.“We have no lack of gold and jewels already aboard the Lion,” exclaimed the former; “but an’ we become masters of what this castle holds we may turn our bows homeward, and no longer go roaming the world around for gold; that those who have lady-loves may wed and live like lords of the land to the end of their days. Yet I tell thee, Ned, I am more glad to see thee alive and hearty than if I had gained this fortress.”There was no time for Edward to tell his story. Waymouth assured him that, had he suspected he was with the defenders of the rock, he should have come in person to his assistance. Waymouth’s party had landed with some scaling-ladders and a small ram used for battering open gates. The men were all eager to begin the attack. They had halted under shelter of some rocks near the forts. With a loud cheer the men sprang forward as the bugles sounded for the assault. Some placed the scaling-ladders against the walls, and began to climb up with a celerity and activity which only seamen can display; others bore on the battering-ram towards one of the gates, which they battered with vigorous blows; while a third party, armed with arquebuses and crossbows, shot bullets and bolts towards the walls, bringing down all who appeared upon them.Although, from so great a number of the Portugals having been put to flight, the defenders were few, the walls were high and the gates strong, and, to get into the castle was no easy matter. As to the gate, the Portugals let the battering-ram do its worst without interfering, while they united all their efforts in opposing the escaladers, who, as they reached the summit of the ladders, again and again were hurled down, some with broken heads and gashed shoulders and arms, and others killed outright, though not a few were ready, as at first, to climb up and renew the attack.Waymouth and his officers exerted themselves gallantly, but discovered that stone walls are hard things for men to knock their heads against, and many began to fear that the exploit must be abandoned, when Edward, who, in spite of his wound, had not been behindhand in exhibiting his courage, recollected the gate out of which Donna Isabel had conducted him the previous night, and the angle of the wall down which he had slipped. Telling Waymouth what he proposed doing, he summoned Dick Lizard and some of his companions in captivity, with a few other fresh men, and, briefly explaining his plans, led them round close under the walls on the sand where it was evidently generally washed by the sea. The angle was reached, and by the rope which Edward had left hanging over when making his escape he prepared to climb up, though each of his men was eager to lead. Young Marston, who was the only midshipman of the party, especially entreated that he might go.“I’ll be at the top in a moment, sir,” he whispered. “I’ll let you know if there are any Portugals near, and if they tumble me over it will matter nothing.”Edward, however, would allow no one to precede him. He grasped the rope, and began his ascent. How different were his feelings from what they had been when descending a few hours before! Marston followed directly after him. Up he climbed, expecting every moment a Portugal’s head to appear over the parapet, and to see the rope cut above him. On he went, though. The summit was reached, and throwing himself on it, he drew his sword and stood ready to defend the spot till his men should have likewise gained a footing. Marston was by his side in a moment. When they looked around, not a Portugal was to be seen to stop their progress. Forward they rushed accordingly, and got half way across the open before they were discovered by one of the garrison. The man who first saw them summoned others, and a pretty strong party was collected to oppose them, who, rushing down, met them before they reached the gate at which they were aiming. So furiously, however, did the seamen charge the enemy, that they were driven back, cut down, or put to flight before any one had time to shut the gate, which, as Edward had hoped might be the case, was left open. A few rushed in before them, and a desperate struggle ensued. In the end not a Portugal remained alive. The passages resounded with the tramp of armed men, the clash of steel, the reports of pistols, and the cries of the wounded, while clouds of smoke rolled along them.“On! on!” was the cry.Dick Lizard happily knew the way to the principal gate.“I’ll tell you, Master Raymond, by and by how I came to know it,” he remarked. “It’s all of the lady who helped us out.”On they went. It was every thing to reach the principal gate without further opposition. As Edward had hoped, all the defenders were on the ramparts. No one had remained inside the gate, which from its strength it was supposed would withstand any attempt to batter it down. Dick was not mistaken. The thundering of the battering-ram guided them also to the spot. Passing under a broad archway, they found themselves just within the great gate. The din of the battle outside had prevented their approach being heard, while every one was too busy to observe them. Bars and bolts innumerable guarded the gate. These Edward and his followers began to withdraw, but they were so huge and rusty that it was with difficulty they could be removed. While the seamen were still labouring away, Raymond, turning his head, saw at the farther end of the passage a number of men approaching. At their head he recognised Don Lobo himself. With cries of vengeance, the governor led on his men. The blood of the Lusitanian was up, and, cruel tyrant and extortioner as he had been, when he found himself pushed to extremities, and his enemies already within his stronghold, he resolved to drive them out or die as became him in its defence. As the governor approached, Edward and part of his company faced about to encounter him, while Dick Lizard and the rest plied crowbars and hammers in beating back the huge bolts which secured the gate. The battering-ram was all the time thundering away outside. The object of Don Lobo was to destroy the daring band of Englishmen who had got inside, and to replace the bolts before the ram had forced the gate. Nobly Edward and his little party kept their numerous foes, hard pressing on them, at bay. Don Lobo himself rushed forward at length in desperation, and his blade crossed that of Edward.“Ha, ha! I hate you, and you know the reason, vile Englishman!” he exclaimed, as he made a lunge at his opponent’s breast.Edward turned the weapon aside, and that instant Dick shouted—“Stand from under, lads! stand from under!”For the huge gate was cracking in every part, and with a loud crash down it came, crushing one poor fellow, the rest with difficulty escaping. Don Lobo heard the shout and the crash. His eye was for an instant withdrawn from his sword’s point to look at the falling gate. That instant was fatal to him, and Edward’s weapon entering his bosom, he fell backwards to the ground, while his own sword fell useless from his grasp. As the gate gave way, the fierce and eager countenances of the English seamen were seen in the entrance, led on by Waymouth.“St. George and merry England!” they shouted. “Down with the Portugals! Hurrah! hurrah!”“An’ you cry ‘Down with the Portugals!’ just be sure if there are Portugals to put down,” cried Dick. “The mouse has got into the cheese before you, mates; but there is no lack of mites yet to eat. On—on, lads!”Dick narrowly escaped a clout on the head by his facetiousness. Fortunately, daylight came in through the open gateway, and through the smoke and dust his features were recognised in time. The whole party now rushed forward. Some of the Portugals in narrow, passages made a stand, but they were forced back and driven from chamber to chamber till every part of the castle was in the hands of the English.“The miser’s gold! the miser’s gold!” was now the cry. “Where are his strong boxes? Bring him forth, and make him tell us.”Several hurried off to search for the late governor. Edward might have told them of his fate, but he, mindful of poor Don Joao, had gone to look for his unfortunate acquaintance, and to save him, if possible, from insult or violence.Here and there the sound of strife might still be heard as a few of the braver spirits who had retreated, not aware how entirely the castle was in the power of the English, were defending themselves in rooms and galleries from small parties of adventurers who had separated from the main body in search of plunder.Edward had made inquiries both of Portugals and English if they knew aught of Don Joao. At length, led by the sound of clashing steel, he found his way, with the few men he had got to follow him, into the circular chamber of a distant tower. There in a deep window recess clustered three or four priests holding crucifixes in their hands, some dark-skinned women in their picturesque costume, and some native attendants. Before them stood Don Joao, with five or six Portugal soldiers, defending themselves with their swords against the attacks of four or five English sailors, who were hewing and hacking away, not with much science, but with such furious blows that they had already cut down two or more Portugals, and were now hard pressing the old soldier. He was bleeding from more than one wound, and was evidently little able to hold out against assailants so persevering. Edward hurried forward, ordering the Englishmen to desist; but they either would not or did not hear him, and before he could interpose his own weapon, a heavy cut from a rapier brought the old man to the ground.“For shame, men!” exclaimed Edward, saving the old soldier from another blow. “We war not with grey hairs, with priests and women. Let not another blow be struck.”The Portugals, finding resistance hopeless, threw down their arms. Edward knelt down by the old man’s side, and raised his head. It was very evident that his last hours were passing by.“My daughter?” he asked in a faint voice. “Brave Englishman, can you tell me any thing of my daughter? She had my leave to aid in your escape. I would have accompanied her had I been able.”Edward felt sick at heart at having to tell the poor father of his daughter’s fate. Yet what could he say?“Alas! I cannot say but I fear the worst,” was his reply.“I dreaded to hear this, but do not blame you, noble Englishman. The last link which bound me to earth is broken, and I am ready to quit this world, which man’s folly and wickedness has made so full of woe and suffering.”These were almost the last words the old man spoke, though the priests came round and administered the rites of their faith ere his spirit quitted its frail tenement. Even the rough seamen, despisers and haters of all papistical ceremonies, looked on with respect and awe as the old soldier’s head sank on his breast, and his hand fell powerless by his side.Waymouth had taken precautions to secure all the entrances to the castle while the garrison were committed to the dungeons in which they had been accustomed to confine the enemies who had the misfortune of falling into their hands. Those who had gone in search of Don Lobo soon returned, bearing on a litter his dead body, an officer holding up in triumph a bunch of keys which had been found in his pockets, and shouting—“The keys of his money-chests! the keys of his money-chests!”“The keys are but of small service to us without the chests,” remarked the captain. “Find the chests, men, and we may make small account of the keys.”A diligent search was therefore commenced for the reputed wealth of the old governor. It was said that he had employed thirty years in collecting it, and that he had purposed shortly returning to Europe, under the vain belief that it would afford him enjoyment and contentment. Every passage, and corner, and crevice of the castle from top to bottom was searched, and not a sign of a money-box could be discovered. Some declared that the governor’s wealth was really fabulous—that is to say, it had no existence; while others affirmed that it did exist, and would somewhere be discovered. Midshipmen generally consider hunting for rabbits very good fun, but hunting for money-chests was very much better. All the cabin-boys of the Lion hunted round and round and up and down with wonderful zeal. The captain at last promised that whoever found the wealth should have a tenth portion of it. This still further excited the diligence of all hands. Still no chests were forthcoming. Some, in revenge, proposed burning down the castle, till the captain announced that whoever set it on fire should be cast into the flames. Again and again the search was renewed. The prisoners were interrogated, but no one could tell. Rewards were offered without effect. It was evident that they did not know. Several said that Pedro Pacheco knew; but that worthy had been run through the body by a pike, which had struck him in the back as he was making his escape with a bag of gold under his arm, which he refused to stop and deliver. The booty was, after all, not so contemptible, for there were silver plate in large quantities, and jewelled ornaments, and golden coin; but, as it was not what was expected, no one was contented.At last Oliver Marston happened to strike his foot against a ring in the corner of a small room on the ground floor of the castle. It served as the handle of a stone which without difficulty he lifted. Lights were brought. A flight of stone steps led to a vault, in which was an iron door. Crowbars, eagerly brought, forced it open, and there exposed to view were a dozen large iron chests. The governor’s keys were applied, the lids opened, and exposed to view ingots of gold and silver, and jewels and coins scarcely to be counted. Wild were the shouts of delight as chest after chest was opened, and each one in succession appeared to contain more gold and jewels than the first. The chests were computed to contain property of even greater value than what was already on board the Lion. It was no easy work to carry off the chests, but it was accomplished before the eyelids of one of the victors closed in sleep. The prisoners were allowed their liberty, the castle was set on fire, and, while the flames were bursting out on all sides, the Lion made sail with her rich freight, and stood away to the southward.

It would be impossible thoroughly to describe the feelings of disappointment which the Englishmen experienced when they discovered that they were caught like fish in a net. The Portugals were advancing along the rocks on both sides of the harbour, and in the narrow channel where they were they would all be shot down, or must yield directly they were summoned. In vain they tried to break through the chain. Again and again they dashed the stem of their boat against it. No weapon of sufficient strength to cut it was to be found in the boat. Dick and another man leaped overboard, and, balancing themselves on the chain, attempted to lift the boat over, but she was far too heavy to allow them a chance of success. Hitherto the Portugals had not fired; it might have been because they believed that Donna Isabel was with them, or that, having to scramble along the rocks, they had left their weapons behind them.

“Oh, boys! if we had but a place to swim to, we’d swim rather than be caught by these baboon-faced Portugals,” cried Dick, as he reluctantly re-entered the boat.

Lights were now seen as if on the water itself.

“The Portugals have launched some boats, and are coming in pursuit!” shouted Lizard.

“Never mind, lads; if we can but get through their chain, we’ll hold them a long chase yet. Now, lads, a hearty pull and pull all together.”

Heartily the seamen did pull, and stove in the bow of the boat, and sprang every one of their oars. With no very complimentary remarks on the Portugals’ rotten spars, they broke them completely in two, and each man, grasping the inner end, prepared to use it as a quarter-staff. Scarcely had they thus armed themselves when three boats dashed up alongside them. Several voices ordered them to yield themselves prisoners.

“Yield ourselves prisoners!” exclaimed Dick. “Come and take us, you blackguards! We’ll just have the pleasure of cracking some of your skulls first.”

Although the Portugals did not understand Dick’s polite observations, they concluded from the tone of his voice that they were not conciliatory, and therefore, with threats of vengeance, they pressed round them. Great was their astonishment and indignation as they were about to jump on board the fugitives’ boat to find showers of blows descend on their heads with such hearty good-will, that with many a cracked skull they sprang back into their own boats faster than they had left them. The Portugals in the boats so thickly surrounded the English that the former could not use their fire-arms, while those on the rocks were also afraid to fire for fear of hitting their friends. Bravely and gallantly the seamen held out.

“Hurrah for the true English quarter-staves, lads!” cried Dick, as he dealt blow after blow on the heads of the Portugals, his example being ably followed by the rest of the men.

Edward shouted and encouraged his followers, though less vociferously. Several of the Portugals were knocked overboard; others, stunned, fell back into the bottom of their boats; and others, with broken arms and bruised shoulders, shouted—“Treachery! treachery! Help! help! Fire! fire!” and all sorts of cries, under the belief that the numbers of the fugitives were far greater than was the case.

As long as the enemy could be kept at close quarters the English had greatly the advantage; but at length so greatly worsted were the Portugals that the survivors and the unmaimed, getting out their oars, and shoving off from the boat which contained the audacious English, fairly took to flight, and pulled away up the harbour, maliciously shouting as they went—

“Fire! fire at the chain!”

Their cries were heard, and the rattle of fire-arms followed, and the bright flashes were seen, while the shot whistled over the only spot at which the prisoners could hope to make their escape, even if they could manage to cut or force the chain. As it would have been certain death to make the attempt, Raymond proposed a still more daring scheme—to pull up the harbour after the Portugal boats, to board one of them before the people had recovered from their panic, to seize their arms, and then to try and make terms with the enemy, or to die fighting bravely with weapons in their hands which might be used at a longer distance than could their quarter-staves. The idea was no sooner suggested than put into execution. The boats had only gone up a short distance, and before the Portugals were aware that they were pursued, the English, with their dreaded quarter-staves, were battering away on their skulls, and in a few seconds had possessed themselves of all the fire-arms, ammunition, and swords to be found on board. Another boat was overtaken, and before those on board had recovered from their astonishment they were also deprived of their arms. The English now dashed on so as to reach the shore before their opponents, and be ready to stand on their defence. Their success was greater than they anticipated. As the Portugals were looking in other directions, no one opposed them, and they had time not only to leap on shore, but to reach a rock on the beach which Raymond recollected so close to the water that it prevented any one approaching on that side, while the rock itself formed a rampart in front, behind which they could fight. Here Edward found himself with Dick Lizard and ten other men, some of them more or less wounded, but all able to use their weapons. Although they knew that they must ultimately be starved out or overwhelmed by numbers, yet, like brave men, they agreed not to yield while resistance could by any possibility avail them. Some time passed—no enemy appeared. What were the Portugals about to do? was the question.

“They don’t know where we’ve got to, and they’re boasting that they’ve killed us,” suggested Dick in a low voice.

Edward had still a lingering hope that they might escape. The minutes were very long, but they increased into hours, and at last the day dawned, and Dick, looking out from behind his hiding-place, could see the Portugals scattered about among the rocks near the harbour still looking for them. Daylight, however, exhibited the boat on the beach, and the marks of their feet on the sand. Their place of refuge was soon discovered, and now in numbers the Portugals came crowding up from all quarters, thinking that they were about to take their prey on easy terms, and vowing vengeance on their heads. The rock, however, formed a breastwork which no bullets could penetrate, nor even could round shot from ordnance make any impression on it. The shape was that of a half-moon, the convex side being towards the shore, with the two horns running some way into the water where it was too deep for any one to wade, except the sea was unusually smooth.

On the sea side there was deep water, outside of which was a ledge of broken rocks here and there showing their heads, forming a barrier no boats could pass, with what may be described as a lagoon of smooth water inside the rocks. Thus Raymond and his party were completely protected from the sea, unless a boat could be dragged overland and launched beyond the rock into the lagoon. This could easily have been done under ordinary circumstances, but any persons now attempting it would have been exposed to the fire of the English from the rock. Edward had noted some of the advantages offered by the rock as a place where a few determined men might defend themselves, but the strength of its position surpassed his expectations. It was the recollection of this rock which made him propose the bold attack on the Portugals in their boats which proved so successful. Some of the Portugals, it was observed, advanced bravely enough, but others, whose heads were bandaged, though they shouted and urged on their countrymen, hung back, and seemed in no way inclined to encounter the daring Englishmen. Dick Lizard pointed them out to his companions.

“Ha, ha! the varlets!” he exclaimed. “They know the flavour of our English quarter-staves, and don’t want a second taste of them.”

Raymond had no necessity to counsel his men to be steady, for every one had his weapons ready, and stood as cool as if no enemy were advancing to the attack. Still the number of their opponents was sufficient to daunt the stoutest hearts. Not only were there Portugals, but swarthy natives in light garments and long matchlocks, nimble fellows who looked capable of climbing over the rocks like wildcats, and proving troublesome at close quarters. There were some gayly-bedecked cavaliers on horseback, but of them the seamen took but little account.

“All we’ve to do, lads, is to kill the steeds, and then your horsemen become clumsy footmen,” exclaimed Lizard as he saw them galloping up over the sand-hills from the interior.

The Portugals, who, like wise men, seemed to be lovers of long shots, began to fire towards the rock, not all together nor taking good aim, but as each man thought he could hit an enemy without being hit himself. The leaden bullets mostly flew high overhead, but a few came spluttering against the rock to fall flattened into the crevices or to roll down into the sand. Edward ordered his followers to keep under cover, he alone watching the progress of their foes. On they came, the showers of shots increasing in thickness, but being perfectly innocuous. The nearer they got the higher the shot flew, so that no harm was done except to the Portugals themselves by the bursting of some of their fire-arms.

“Wait, lads, till they get close up to the rock, and then fire and knock over the foremost dozen at the least,” he cried out. “Maybe they won’t expect the warm reception we can give them.”

Raymond, like a good officer, having made the utmost of his position and taken every proper precaution to insure success, did his best to encourage his men and to make them despise their enemies. Foolish and ignorant officers neglect the necessary preparations and precautions, and yet fancy that they are exhibiting their bravery by despising their foes. This has ever been a great cause of defeat and disaster. There was a pause. The Portugals had not the heart to make a rush forward, and the English were unwilling to throw their precious shot away.

The Portugals were seen to halt, as if to hold a consultation. The perfect quietness of the English alarmed them more than loud shouting and noise would have done. They did not know what to make of it.

“Ha! ha! they’ve no stomach for the fight,” whispered Dick, who had popped up his head to see what was going forward. “They’re just thinking whether they’ll go back to their wives and families, or come on and be shot. We’ll teach them the wisest thing to do.”

The pause was broken by the sound of a trumpet, and a cavalcade was seen approaching from the direction of the castle. As it drew near, Edward recognised by his dress and bearing Don Lobo at its head. An officer was now seen to gallop forward towards what might be called the storming party, but that they appeared to have no great inclination to storm. His message seemed to expedite their movements, and with loud shouts and a hotter fire they once more advanced. Finding also that the garrison of the rock did not reply, their courage increased as did their shouts and their speed, although it requires a stout heart to march towards an enemy over heavy sand.

“They’ll go back, an’ I mistake not, faster than they are coming on,” whispered Dick.

“Steady, my merry men,” cried Raymond as the Portugals were crowding on within a few paces of the rock.

Numbers had already begun to climb its slippery sides, pressing on each other, the hinder ones urging on those in front, the rearmost feeling their valour at the highest pitch, when Edward perceived that the time for action had arrived.

“Now, lads, give it them!” he exclaimed, setting the example by firing his piece, which was of the blunderbuss genus, rammed full of shot, and knocking over three if not more of the stormers. The rest of the party discharged their fire-arms at the same moment, lodging their contents in the bodies of some score or more of their assailants. They, the most part killed, with many who, though unhurt, were terribly alarmed, tumbled back on their comrades in the rear, all rolling down the rock together, and so thoroughly bedabbled with blood that it appeared as if the whole party were desperately wounded. This damped the courage of the rest. Some stood irresolute, others actually ran, and others shouted to their comrades to go on, but did not themselves advance. This enabled the English seamen to reload their fire-arms, and as it was evident that the fight would be carried on at close quarters, each man put as many shot into his piece as it would hold.

“Now we are ready once more for the Portugals! Hurrah, lads! give it them again!” shouted Dick, while the enemy hesitated to advance.

Several fire-arms had been taken from the boats besides those of which each man had possessed himself. These were also loaded and placed ready for use. The spirits of the seamen rose as they saw the way in which the first attack had been repulsed. Of the future they did not think. Edward, on the contrary, could not help thinking of the result, and felt that their lives must be sacrificed in the end, and that, as they had resolved to sell them dear, the longer they fought was but adding to their price. Still he kept his courage up and resolved to persevere to the end. Still the enemy did not advance. The governor was seen in the distance, and appeared to be furious at the hesitation of his men. Message after message was sent to them to goad them on. The trumpets sounded the charge, and with shouts and cries they once more advanced to climb the rock. Again Edward allowed them to approach till the most daring had got high enough to bring their breasts up to the muzzles of the pieces.

“Fire, my merry men, fire!” he shouted.

The result was even more terrible than at first, and numbers of killed and wounded men rolled back on their comrades, throwing their ranks once more into confusion. This time, however, others attempted to come on, but Edward, leaving two of his party to reload the fire-arms, led on the rest armed with their quarter-staves, and leaping on the rock gave the foe so unexpected a reception that they were driven helter-skelter back and fairly put to flight. Edward restrained his men from firing a volley after them, as ammunition was too precious to be thrown away. This success gave them a short breathing-time. Raymond had little hopes, however, of obtaining fair and honourable terms. Carrying off their wounded, but leaving their dead under the rock, the Portugals withdrew to a distance.

The Englishmen had time now to consider their position and what was to be done. They were as unanimous as at first in determining to hold out to the last gasp. Indeed, Edward reminded them that if they yielded they would certainly be put to death. Without saying any thing, Dick slipped from among the rest, and with a large knife in his hand rushed into the water. He speedily returned with a large bunch of clams and other shell-fish.

“Ha! ha! the Portugals will not starve us out as quickly as they think,” he exclaimed triumphantly. “That’s the reason, I take it, that they hold back.”

Probably Dick was right in his conjecture. There was no want of driftwood under the rock, and, though raw shell-fish have often been eaten, even seamen prefer them cooked. A fire was soon lighted, and all the garrison were speedily employed in roasting the shell-fish. The Portugals on seeing the smoke must have guessed its cause, for they were soon again seen assembling to renew the attack. Edward saw that the time had come when they must prepare to die like brave men, for he could not hope to repulse another attack as successfully as he had done the first. Often did the brave band wish they were on the deck of a stout ship prepared to do battle on somewhat equal terms, with a prospect of victory in the end, or at worst to go down with colours flying to find their graves in the element they loved so well. Ever and anon, and naturally enough, they turned a wistful gaze over the ocean, and a sail was now descried in the horizon. The circumstance could scarcely give rise to hope, and yet often and often, as men would do, they turned their eyes in the same direction to watch her progress. She was, however, not directly approaching the shore, for the land breeze yet blew strongly off it, but she was standing along it close-hauled from the southward.

“She is edging in for the land!” cried Dick Lizard. “She may be a Portugal, or a Spaniard, or a Hollander; but oh, boys! she may—she may be an honest Englishman, and bring us help at our great need.”

“The Lord grant that so it may be!” said Edward, who, without pretension, had true religious principles, and was not ashamed of his feelings. “We are in his hands. Let us pray for protection, and he will not desert us.”

And then and there, on the sand and rocks, like sturdy believers as they were, they knelt down, with their arms in their hands, and humbly poured out their petition to Heaven for aid. Then they rose and looked out for the enemy. The land wind, as has been said, was blowing, and the heat was very great, especially on the sands, and the Portugals seemed rather inclined to take their siesta than to fight with enemies whom they believed they had got securely in a trap from which they could not ultimately escape death or capture.

As the sun rose the wind died away, and the heat became almost unbearable. Some of Edward’s party declared that they should be roasted alive, and that they felt themselves bubbling and hissing already.

“Never mind, lads, a plunge in the sea will soon cool us; and that’s what I propose we take to when our ammunition is all gone,” cried Dick.

Even while he was talking, however, a ripple was seen to play over the surface of the lagoon, and a faint breeze fanned their scorched cheeks.

“Hurrah, lads! here comes the honest sea wind,” exclaimed Dick. “May it blow us good luck!”

Stronger and stronger it blew, and now the strange ship was seen to be rapidly approaching the land under all sail, having squared away her yards before it. Had the Portugals been more wide awake they would have long since seen her. They seemed, indeed, in no way disconcerted at her appearance. After a time, the Portugal flag was seen flying at her peak, and they were evidently prepared to welcome her as a friend. The hopes of most of the party again sank low. Dick, however, constantly kept his eye on the stranger, scanning her sails and rigging and lofty hull. He had not much time to engage in this agreeable occupation before Raymond called his men to their posts, for the enemy were seen mustering in great numbers, probably ashamed that their countrymen should find them kept at bay by a mere handful of foreigners. Don Lobo himself rode forth from the castle with his staff of officers, and drums beat, and trumpets brayed, and cymbals clashed as the troops rushed forward to the assault. On they came.

“Steady as before, my brave men, and we’ll beat them off again,” cried Edward.

Up the rock they climbed with fierce shouts and denunciations of vengeance, but the same mistake was again committed as at first—the bravest had been allowed to go first, the more cowardly following. Again the little English band of heroes let fly their pieces, knocking over the leaders, who, falling back, threw the rest into disorder. Some struggled on, and the English quarter-staves again came into use. Several of the English were, however, wounded by the pistols of the Portugals. Raymond got a severe cut on his left arm, and a bullet went through the brain of another man. Still the seamen struggled on, and making a rush all together, drove the Portugals once more to the bottom of the rock. Now, had the cowards led the way they would have undoubtedly been killed by the volley of the English; but before the latter could reload, the braver men would have been upon them, and would probably have ended the unequal contest. As it was, so great was the awe inspired by the English seamen’s determined bravery, that it was some time before the Portugals could be again brought up to the attack.

During the interval the stranger ship had approached as near the shore as it was safe to venture, and had there cast anchor, just beyond the range of the guns of the castle. Several boats were seen to be lowered from her lofty sides. They were at once filled with men and pulled towards the shore, under cover of the ship’s guns. The ship had come to an anchor while the fighting was going forward, and no sooner were the enemy repulsed than Lizard turned his eyes towards the ocean to ascertain what the stranger was about. He took a steady gaze at her, and then giving a loud slap with his hand on his thigh, he exclaimed—

“The Lion, lads, the Lion! Hurrah! Old England for ever! Hurrah!”

His shouts made all his companions turn their eyes in the same direction, and so absorbed were they in gazing at the stranger, that had the enemy stormed at that moment the little English band would have been cut to pieces. A second glance was not necessary to convince Edward that the ship he saw was indeed the Lion herself.

The Portugals, it seemed by their movements, began to have some suspicions of the character of the stranger, and of the object of the boats in coming on shore. It made them still more eager to recapture their former prisoners, and to retire to the fort. Doubly resolved, however, were Raymond and his men to hold out till their countrymen could come to their rescue. The boats were steering for a bay between the rock and the castle. Again the Portugals began to assail the rock with fierce cries of vengeance. The seamen shouted in return. Hotter and hotter grew the fight; the eleven defenders of the rock stood boldly at bay, hurling the Portugals down the rock, casting their pistols, which they snatched from their hands, after them, and often bringing their own quarter-staves into play. Still, from loss of blood and the constant attacks of the enemy, their strength began to fail; even Edward felt that nature would give way, when the stranger’s boats reached the beach. Each boat was full of men, who leaped on shore and formed in two parties—one pushing towards the castle, the other, shouting “St. George and Merry England!” towards the rock. On they came. There was no doubt that they were friends. Some of the Portugals faced about to meet them; but so furiously did the strangers charge, that, after exchanging several blows, resulting in not a few cracked skulls, those who could run took to their heels and fled. Edward, seeing this, charged down on his assailants, driving them before him to the bottom of the rock, which his friends at the same moment reached. The remainder of the enemy, finding themselves between two fires, made no attempt at defence, but as many as could escape ran off inland, the rest being cut to pieces or made prisoners.

Hearty were the greetings as shipmates, long separated, clasped the hands of shipmates—for the new-comers were the brave Lions. Raymond’s first inquiry was for Antony Waymouth.

“The captain is leading the other party,” was the answer. “Our orders are to push on to join him.”

“Oh, let us go!” cried Edward, forgetting his wounds, fatigue, and every thing, and eager only to join his friend.

On they went over the hot sands, not altogether unmolested; for the Portugals fired at them from a distance, and here and there one of the party was hit; but no one seemed to care for wounds—the Castle of San Pedro, with the reputed riches of its savage governor, was to be their prize. The two parties met under the walls. There was a short but hearty greeting between Antony Waymouth and Edward Raymond.

“We have no lack of gold and jewels already aboard the Lion,” exclaimed the former; “but an’ we become masters of what this castle holds we may turn our bows homeward, and no longer go roaming the world around for gold; that those who have lady-loves may wed and live like lords of the land to the end of their days. Yet I tell thee, Ned, I am more glad to see thee alive and hearty than if I had gained this fortress.”

There was no time for Edward to tell his story. Waymouth assured him that, had he suspected he was with the defenders of the rock, he should have come in person to his assistance. Waymouth’s party had landed with some scaling-ladders and a small ram used for battering open gates. The men were all eager to begin the attack. They had halted under shelter of some rocks near the forts. With a loud cheer the men sprang forward as the bugles sounded for the assault. Some placed the scaling-ladders against the walls, and began to climb up with a celerity and activity which only seamen can display; others bore on the battering-ram towards one of the gates, which they battered with vigorous blows; while a third party, armed with arquebuses and crossbows, shot bullets and bolts towards the walls, bringing down all who appeared upon them.

Although, from so great a number of the Portugals having been put to flight, the defenders were few, the walls were high and the gates strong, and, to get into the castle was no easy matter. As to the gate, the Portugals let the battering-ram do its worst without interfering, while they united all their efforts in opposing the escaladers, who, as they reached the summit of the ladders, again and again were hurled down, some with broken heads and gashed shoulders and arms, and others killed outright, though not a few were ready, as at first, to climb up and renew the attack.

Waymouth and his officers exerted themselves gallantly, but discovered that stone walls are hard things for men to knock their heads against, and many began to fear that the exploit must be abandoned, when Edward, who, in spite of his wound, had not been behindhand in exhibiting his courage, recollected the gate out of which Donna Isabel had conducted him the previous night, and the angle of the wall down which he had slipped. Telling Waymouth what he proposed doing, he summoned Dick Lizard and some of his companions in captivity, with a few other fresh men, and, briefly explaining his plans, led them round close under the walls on the sand where it was evidently generally washed by the sea. The angle was reached, and by the rope which Edward had left hanging over when making his escape he prepared to climb up, though each of his men was eager to lead. Young Marston, who was the only midshipman of the party, especially entreated that he might go.

“I’ll be at the top in a moment, sir,” he whispered. “I’ll let you know if there are any Portugals near, and if they tumble me over it will matter nothing.”

Edward, however, would allow no one to precede him. He grasped the rope, and began his ascent. How different were his feelings from what they had been when descending a few hours before! Marston followed directly after him. Up he climbed, expecting every moment a Portugal’s head to appear over the parapet, and to see the rope cut above him. On he went, though. The summit was reached, and throwing himself on it, he drew his sword and stood ready to defend the spot till his men should have likewise gained a footing. Marston was by his side in a moment. When they looked around, not a Portugal was to be seen to stop their progress. Forward they rushed accordingly, and got half way across the open before they were discovered by one of the garrison. The man who first saw them summoned others, and a pretty strong party was collected to oppose them, who, rushing down, met them before they reached the gate at which they were aiming. So furiously, however, did the seamen charge the enemy, that they were driven back, cut down, or put to flight before any one had time to shut the gate, which, as Edward had hoped might be the case, was left open. A few rushed in before them, and a desperate struggle ensued. In the end not a Portugal remained alive. The passages resounded with the tramp of armed men, the clash of steel, the reports of pistols, and the cries of the wounded, while clouds of smoke rolled along them.

“On! on!” was the cry.

Dick Lizard happily knew the way to the principal gate.

“I’ll tell you, Master Raymond, by and by how I came to know it,” he remarked. “It’s all of the lady who helped us out.”

On they went. It was every thing to reach the principal gate without further opposition. As Edward had hoped, all the defenders were on the ramparts. No one had remained inside the gate, which from its strength it was supposed would withstand any attempt to batter it down. Dick was not mistaken. The thundering of the battering-ram guided them also to the spot. Passing under a broad archway, they found themselves just within the great gate. The din of the battle outside had prevented their approach being heard, while every one was too busy to observe them. Bars and bolts innumerable guarded the gate. These Edward and his followers began to withdraw, but they were so huge and rusty that it was with difficulty they could be removed. While the seamen were still labouring away, Raymond, turning his head, saw at the farther end of the passage a number of men approaching. At their head he recognised Don Lobo himself. With cries of vengeance, the governor led on his men. The blood of the Lusitanian was up, and, cruel tyrant and extortioner as he had been, when he found himself pushed to extremities, and his enemies already within his stronghold, he resolved to drive them out or die as became him in its defence. As the governor approached, Edward and part of his company faced about to encounter him, while Dick Lizard and the rest plied crowbars and hammers in beating back the huge bolts which secured the gate. The battering-ram was all the time thundering away outside. The object of Don Lobo was to destroy the daring band of Englishmen who had got inside, and to replace the bolts before the ram had forced the gate. Nobly Edward and his little party kept their numerous foes, hard pressing on them, at bay. Don Lobo himself rushed forward at length in desperation, and his blade crossed that of Edward.

“Ha, ha! I hate you, and you know the reason, vile Englishman!” he exclaimed, as he made a lunge at his opponent’s breast.

Edward turned the weapon aside, and that instant Dick shouted—

“Stand from under, lads! stand from under!”

For the huge gate was cracking in every part, and with a loud crash down it came, crushing one poor fellow, the rest with difficulty escaping. Don Lobo heard the shout and the crash. His eye was for an instant withdrawn from his sword’s point to look at the falling gate. That instant was fatal to him, and Edward’s weapon entering his bosom, he fell backwards to the ground, while his own sword fell useless from his grasp. As the gate gave way, the fierce and eager countenances of the English seamen were seen in the entrance, led on by Waymouth.

“St. George and merry England!” they shouted. “Down with the Portugals! Hurrah! hurrah!”

“An’ you cry ‘Down with the Portugals!’ just be sure if there are Portugals to put down,” cried Dick. “The mouse has got into the cheese before you, mates; but there is no lack of mites yet to eat. On—on, lads!”

Dick narrowly escaped a clout on the head by his facetiousness. Fortunately, daylight came in through the open gateway, and through the smoke and dust his features were recognised in time. The whole party now rushed forward. Some of the Portugals in narrow, passages made a stand, but they were forced back and driven from chamber to chamber till every part of the castle was in the hands of the English.

“The miser’s gold! the miser’s gold!” was now the cry. “Where are his strong boxes? Bring him forth, and make him tell us.”

Several hurried off to search for the late governor. Edward might have told them of his fate, but he, mindful of poor Don Joao, had gone to look for his unfortunate acquaintance, and to save him, if possible, from insult or violence.

Here and there the sound of strife might still be heard as a few of the braver spirits who had retreated, not aware how entirely the castle was in the power of the English, were defending themselves in rooms and galleries from small parties of adventurers who had separated from the main body in search of plunder.

Edward had made inquiries both of Portugals and English if they knew aught of Don Joao. At length, led by the sound of clashing steel, he found his way, with the few men he had got to follow him, into the circular chamber of a distant tower. There in a deep window recess clustered three or four priests holding crucifixes in their hands, some dark-skinned women in their picturesque costume, and some native attendants. Before them stood Don Joao, with five or six Portugal soldiers, defending themselves with their swords against the attacks of four or five English sailors, who were hewing and hacking away, not with much science, but with such furious blows that they had already cut down two or more Portugals, and were now hard pressing the old soldier. He was bleeding from more than one wound, and was evidently little able to hold out against assailants so persevering. Edward hurried forward, ordering the Englishmen to desist; but they either would not or did not hear him, and before he could interpose his own weapon, a heavy cut from a rapier brought the old man to the ground.

“For shame, men!” exclaimed Edward, saving the old soldier from another blow. “We war not with grey hairs, with priests and women. Let not another blow be struck.”

The Portugals, finding resistance hopeless, threw down their arms. Edward knelt down by the old man’s side, and raised his head. It was very evident that his last hours were passing by.

“My daughter?” he asked in a faint voice. “Brave Englishman, can you tell me any thing of my daughter? She had my leave to aid in your escape. I would have accompanied her had I been able.”

Edward felt sick at heart at having to tell the poor father of his daughter’s fate. Yet what could he say?

“Alas! I cannot say but I fear the worst,” was his reply.

“I dreaded to hear this, but do not blame you, noble Englishman. The last link which bound me to earth is broken, and I am ready to quit this world, which man’s folly and wickedness has made so full of woe and suffering.”

These were almost the last words the old man spoke, though the priests came round and administered the rites of their faith ere his spirit quitted its frail tenement. Even the rough seamen, despisers and haters of all papistical ceremonies, looked on with respect and awe as the old soldier’s head sank on his breast, and his hand fell powerless by his side.

Waymouth had taken precautions to secure all the entrances to the castle while the garrison were committed to the dungeons in which they had been accustomed to confine the enemies who had the misfortune of falling into their hands. Those who had gone in search of Don Lobo soon returned, bearing on a litter his dead body, an officer holding up in triumph a bunch of keys which had been found in his pockets, and shouting—

“The keys of his money-chests! the keys of his money-chests!”

“The keys are but of small service to us without the chests,” remarked the captain. “Find the chests, men, and we may make small account of the keys.”

A diligent search was therefore commenced for the reputed wealth of the old governor. It was said that he had employed thirty years in collecting it, and that he had purposed shortly returning to Europe, under the vain belief that it would afford him enjoyment and contentment. Every passage, and corner, and crevice of the castle from top to bottom was searched, and not a sign of a money-box could be discovered. Some declared that the governor’s wealth was really fabulous—that is to say, it had no existence; while others affirmed that it did exist, and would somewhere be discovered. Midshipmen generally consider hunting for rabbits very good fun, but hunting for money-chests was very much better. All the cabin-boys of the Lion hunted round and round and up and down with wonderful zeal. The captain at last promised that whoever found the wealth should have a tenth portion of it. This still further excited the diligence of all hands. Still no chests were forthcoming. Some, in revenge, proposed burning down the castle, till the captain announced that whoever set it on fire should be cast into the flames. Again and again the search was renewed. The prisoners were interrogated, but no one could tell. Rewards were offered without effect. It was evident that they did not know. Several said that Pedro Pacheco knew; but that worthy had been run through the body by a pike, which had struck him in the back as he was making his escape with a bag of gold under his arm, which he refused to stop and deliver. The booty was, after all, not so contemptible, for there were silver plate in large quantities, and jewelled ornaments, and golden coin; but, as it was not what was expected, no one was contented.

At last Oliver Marston happened to strike his foot against a ring in the corner of a small room on the ground floor of the castle. It served as the handle of a stone which without difficulty he lifted. Lights were brought. A flight of stone steps led to a vault, in which was an iron door. Crowbars, eagerly brought, forced it open, and there exposed to view were a dozen large iron chests. The governor’s keys were applied, the lids opened, and exposed to view ingots of gold and silver, and jewels and coins scarcely to be counted. Wild were the shouts of delight as chest after chest was opened, and each one in succession appeared to contain more gold and jewels than the first. The chests were computed to contain property of even greater value than what was already on board the Lion. It was no easy work to carry off the chests, but it was accomplished before the eyelids of one of the victors closed in sleep. The prisoners were allowed their liberty, the castle was set on fire, and, while the flames were bursting out on all sides, the Lion made sail with her rich freight, and stood away to the southward.

Chapter Eight.Away sailed the Lion, those on board exulting in the rich booty they had obtained, and looking ere many months had passed by once more to tread the shores of Old England and to enjoy the wealth they had gotten with so much toil and danger. Good Master Walker, the minister, did his best to warn them not to trust to the riches they had acquired, that riches are apt to take to themselves wings and flee away, and that it in no way follows that because people possess wealth they will have the power of enjoying it. These and other similar remarks were received by the officers and men in general with no good grace, and Master Walker lost popularity simply because no one could deny the truth of his remarks.“There is many a slip between the cup and the lip,” he added one day, most greatly to the annoyance of his hearers.The more conscious people are that a thing may probably come to pass, the more angry they are, if it is against their wish that it should happen, when they are told so. Antony Waymouth was no despiser of gold—or rather the good things of life which gold procures—but he loved his honour more, and he considered it his duty to go in search of the commander-in-chief and the rest of the fleet, if haply they might have reached the rendezvous at Bantam. Waymouth had full experience of the responsibility of power, though he had able assistants in Raymond and his first officer, Carlingford. Several of the crew had for many months shown a mutinous disposition, though the storms to which they had been exposed, the fights in which they had been engaged, and the prospect of the attack on the Castle of San Pedro, had prevented any serious outbreak. Now, however, they loudly expressed their disapproval of continuing the search for Captain Wood, declaring that he and his consorts must long since have perished, and that they, having collected so large an amount of wealth, would be acting like fools to remain out a day longer than they could help. Round the mess-table by day and during the watches of the night the only subject of conversation was the way in which they would spend their wealth when they got on shore. Their disappointment and anger therefore increased greatly when they found that the time for their return might be indefinitely delayed. Those even who had hitherto been obedient began to express themselves in a mutinous manner, and to hint that the sooner another man was captain the better it would, be for all hands fore and aft. This state of things was not unknown to Waymouth and his officers, and it put them on their guard; but while no overt act was committed, it was impossible to take active steps to bring about a change. As at first, Peter Hagger, the boatswain, with his mate and Dick Soper, a seaman, were supposed to be the ringleaders. Though narrowly watched, nothing could be proved Against them. The captain’s two cabin-boys, Oliver Marston and Alfred Stanhope, proud of the approval they had before received, determined to discover, if possible, what was wrong. They had taken Dick Lizard into their councils, assured that he, at all events, might be depended on. In spite of all their wealth and their anticipations of the pleasures it might procure, none of either high or low degree on board could boast of much enjoyment. The happiest person was Master Walker. He was doing his duty, and leaving the consequences in the hand of Heaven. The Island of Java was once more sighted and the Harbour of Bantam entered. No certain news could there be obtained of Captain Wood. Several large ships of the Hollanders had, however, visited the place since their departure, and the people had done their best to spread evil reports of the English. Waymouth cared little for this, but he vowed, should he ever come across the Hollanders, he would make them pay for their slanders, and those who knew him best had no doubt that he would put his threat into execution. Still his chief desire was to go in search of his friends, but even this could not be done without delay, for, he having ordered a survey of the Lion, the carpenters reported that she must undergo a thorough repair before she would be fit to put to sea. No man knew better than the bold captain of the Lion how to get into the good graces of people in power, and he soon gained the confidence and good-will of the King of Bantam. At the same time he was too wise to put more confidence in his majesty than was necessary; he therefore carefully kept concealed from him the amount of wealth the Lion had on board, and rather let him suppose that he and his company were needy adventurers who had yet their fortunes to make at the point of their swords, at the same time that the little they possessed they were ready to expend liberally. This policy answered so well that the repairs of the Lion were allowed to proceed without interruption.One enemy, however, could by no means be kept at a distance. It was the black fever. While still many necessary repairs were yet to be done, it made its baneful appearance. Strong men who had boldly confronted the fiercest foes and the raging storm turned pale when they heard that it had already carried off six of their shipmates. From that time not a day passed but two or more died. Every one of the company laboured hard to get the ship ready for sea, under the belief that they should leave the fell destroyer behind them. Now the qualities of Master Walker, the chaplain, shone forth brightly, for while others shrank back from attending on the plague-stricken, he boldly went among the sick and attended the dying, giving them spiritual counsel and consolation, tending them, and administering medicines prescribed by the surgeon. Full thirty of her brave crew had succumbed to the destroyer, before the Lion, having been got ready for sea, once more ploughed the waters of the ocean. Still the fever raged. Gladly would those on board have given all their wealth to have escaped with health from the plague-stricken ship. Day after day more and more were called away. A small number only of those who were attacked survived, but so sick and weak did they remain that their recovery was hardly expected.Waymouth had received intimation that some ships, supposed to be English, had been seen farther to the eastward, and from the description given, believing them to be Captain Wood’s squadron, he steered a course in that direction. On sailed the Lion on her solitary course. The Angel of Death still pursued her, continuing to summon one after another of her crew. Hope of finding his consorts, however, allured the brave captain on in spite of the ravages of the plague and the warnings given him of the increasing discontent of the crew.“I know the varlets, and fear them not,” he answered. “I showed them before who was master, and will show them again to their cost.”Meantime, Peter Hagger, the boatswain, had been biding his time and strengthening his party by every device he could think of. He well knew that he was watched, but he strove to throw the captain off his guard by a frankness of manner, an unusual attention to his duties, and the strictness with which all orders were obeyed. He appeared to have succeeded so far as to make Waymouth believe that he had abandoned his evil designs, and might be trusted. In the fore-part of the ship, far down in her inward depths, was situated his principal storeroom. There the light of day had never entered since the huge structure had been put together, nor had fresh air penetrated. It was redolent of pitchy and tarry odours, with numerous others of a far from fragrant character. A large horn lantern hung from a beam above, and shed a sickly light throughout the chamber. Here, seated on chests and casks, with their heads bent forward together as if in earnest consultation, were about a dozen seamen. Their naturally ill-favoured countenances were not improved by long exposure to the burning sun of the tropics. The presiding spirit among them was evidently Peter Hagger, the boatswain.“Are we all agreed, mates?” he asked in his usual gruff voice.“All,” said several. “Provided we take no lives,” added others. “The fever has been doing enough of that work lately among us.”“Dead men tell no tales,” observed Hagger.“If we secure the gold we need fear neither dead nor living men,” observed one of the men, who, from the tone of his voice, was evidently of superior education to the rest. “If they were ever to come back without a stiver in their pockets, who would take their word against ours, when we are rolling in wealth?”“But if we don’t heave them overboard or run them up to the yard-arm, what are we to do with them?” was a question put by another speaker.“Why, land them on a desolate island, or sell them to some of these Easterns, or put them on board a prize with provisions to take them to the nearest shore, that would be giving them a fair chance of escape, and no one need complain,” was the remark of a mutineer who had sided with Hagger.“That will do,” observed the boatswain. “And now, mates, the sooner we set about this work the better. To my mind there’s no time like the present. Every day we are going farther and farther to the eastward, and every day getting more and more out of our reckoning. Now d’ye see? All we’ve to do is to sail west, and when we get into the longitude of Bon Esperanza Cape, steer north, and we’ll find our way back to Old England, never fear.”“Ay, ay! with you as captain, Master Hagger,” exclaimed several mutineers, “we shall go straight forward, not be running here and there, looking into this port and that port, and all to no purpose, to look for people who have long since gone to Davy Jones’s locker. Peter Hagger for captain! He’s the man we want.”Peter Hagger bent forward, for the height of the cabin did not allow him to stand upright.“Mates, I take your terms,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve no wish to injure any man, least of all Master Waymouth, who has good qualities, I’ll allow; but we must have our rights, and if he has lost his wits—as there’s no doubt he has—it is seemly that some better man should take his place, and as you choose me, mates, why, I’m not the man to gainsay you.”“All right, Captain Hagger; all right,” said several of the men. “But what is it you would have us do?”“That’s what I was coming to,” answered Hagger, still more lowering his voice till it was only audible to those who put their ears close to his mouth.The men talked long and earnestly together, till all their plans seemed matured. Not only were their plans matured, but they appeared confident of success. One by one they stole off from their place of meeting. They had no fear of having been overheard, for, suspecting that such had before been the case, they had now placed sentries to give notice of the approach of any one they might suspect. Separating, they went to their hammocks, and, what may seem strange, all except the arch-mutineer slept as soundly as if their consciences were free from blame. He could not rest; for though he believed that he was on the point of obtaining the object of his desires—the larger portion of the store of wealth contained in the Lion—yet all the time he was conscious that he had not the ability to retain command over the lawless band who had selected him as their leader, nor the knowledge necessary to navigate the ship to an English port. Still he was determined to persevere in his mad course. He trusted to chance for the future. The wealth he was resolved to have at all risks. The following night had been fixed on for the outbreak.It was the middle watch. The weather even for those latitudes was hot and close. Many of the officers found their cabins too warm to allow them to sleep, and had come on deck to endeavour to obtain rest. Some had thrown themselves down in spots where they were unobserved, and had gone to sleep. Miles Carlingford had charge of the watch, with the two young cabin-boys, Stanhope and Marston, under him. The captain, accompanied by Edward Raymond, after a time came also on deck. Waymouth cast his eyes round the horizon several times as he slowly paced up and down with Raymond.“I like not the look of the midnight sky,” he observed to Carlingford; “I have known black storms, with fury so terrible that scarcely the stoutest ships could withstand them, spring out of such. We must be on the watch. With our weakened crew we cannot shorten sail as we were wont to do, and yet I would not rouse up the men unnecessarily.”“Ay, ay, sir, I’ll not let my eyes wink,” answered Carlingford; “but I hope the weather may clear without the storm. Still, there is no telling in these latitudes what may happen. I would we were out of them.”“So do I, Master Carlingford, believe me, most heartily,” answered the captain. “I promise you, too, that if in two days we do not discover the admiral we will shape a course for the Cape of Bon Esperanza; after recruiting ourselves there we will lose no time in sailing for Old England.”“It will be a happy time indeed, sir, when we again see the white cliffs of our native land,” remarked Raymond, anxious to keep his chief up to his intentions. “I would that the crew were made acquainted with your intentions; it would tranquillise their minds, and banish the discontent in which they now indulge.”“They will know in good time,” answered Waymouth, somewhat angrily. “It does not do to yield to their fancies, or they will become masters over those they are bound to obey.”Scarcely had he spoken when from each of the hatchways, which had been left open on account of the heat, numerous dark forms sprang up, though so silently that neither did he nor the other officers who were looking seaward hear or observe them. Like tigers on their prey the men threw themselves on the knot of officers, who were instantly brought violently to the deck, and pinioned before they had time to cry out. In vain they struggled; they were dragged to the guns, to one of which Waymouth, Carlingford, Raymond, and the two cabin-boys were securely lashed almost before the rest of the officers on deck had sprung to their feet, aroused by the cries they made. None had arms; and the rest of the mutineers, rushing aft, grappled with them, threatening vengeance if they resisted. Surprised and bewildered by the suddenness of the attack, scarcely aware by whom it was made, they were easily knocked down and secured.The Welsh surgeon, Ap Reece, was below, sleeping soundly in spite of the heat and the noise, fatigued with his attendance on the sick, who were still numerous. The shouts and cries of his struggling brother officers awoke him, and, seizing a rapier and a brace of pistols, which he stuck in his belt, he was about to spring on deck to their assistance, when it occurred to him that it would be wiser to ascertain exactly what was occurring. The words which reached his ears—“Mutiny! mutiny! Help! help! Loyal men to the rescue!”—showed him clearly the state of the case.“The scoundrels will be waiting to knock all who are below on the head as they come up,” he thought to himself; “but I will disappoint them.”Thereon he began to make his way forward, where he was sure of finding some of the men ready to side with him. There was a passage from one end of the ship to the other, and at the division between the officers’ quarters and the fore-part a sentry was usually placed, but sickness had so diminished the numbers of the crew that there were not enough men to perform any but the most necessary duties. Ap Reece groped his way on in darkness. He heard some men hallooing out, but it was evident that they were bound, and could render him no assistance till they were released. On a sudden a hand grasped his arm.“Who is this?” said a voice which he recognised as that of honest Dick Lizard.“A friend to all hands,” answered the surgeon. “I hope that you have not turned mutineer, Dick.”“No, indeed, I should hope not, sir,” replied Dick indignantly; “I have a guess of what’s going on. What can we do to help the officers? All the true men are bound hand and foot, and I’m the only one who managed to slip away.”“We won’t despair, Dick; are you armed?” asked the surgeon.“I’ve a hanger, sir,” was the answer.“Come here and I’ll give you some pistols,” said Ap Reece. “Now we’ll first loose all the true men, and then make a rush together and release the captain, if we can find him. With a sword in his hand he’ll soon give good account of the mutineers and bring them to terms.”The surgeon, stepping back, armed Dick as he had promised, and together they found their way without interruption to the fore-hatch. As they got their heads up to the coamings they perceived that the scuffling had ceased, though the voices of a few of the officers were heard upbraiding the men for their treachery.“My friends, I beseech you to be silent. Let me speak to these misguided men,” said a voice which they recognised to be that of Master Walker, the minister. “Mutineers!—for such you are—you are triumphing now in the success of your scheme, and the fancied possession of all the wealth this ship contains; but first let me ask you what does it advantage you now? Nothing. What can it ever advantage you? You can never enjoy it; for be assured that the vengeance of Heaven will overtake you sooner or later; even now, wretched men, it is preparing for you.”“Cease, cease, Master Walker,” exclaimed Hagger, stepping up to the minister. “We wish you no ill; necessity makes us act as we do. We want to injure no one, but we won’t stand opposition, and I for one cannot be answerable for the consequences.”It is needless to say that this threat was accompanied by numerous oaths which need not be repeated; in truth, Peter Hagger never spoke without interlarding his remarks with expressions of that description.Ap Reece guessed correctly that the appeal of Master Walker would have no present beneficial effect, and therefore he and Lizard slipped down below again and made their way to the cabins of some of the inferior officers whom the latter believed had not joined in the mutiny. Two of them, the gunner and carpenter, were found lashed in their berths, not having the slightest conception of what had occurred, and believing that they were the only sufferers. A few brief words explained matters to them. Three other men who had positively refused to join the mutiny were found lashed in different parts of the ship. They were released, hangers were placed in their hands, and, together, led by Ap Reece, they sprang on deck and rushed aft to where the officers lay bound, their principal object being to release Captain Waymouth and then to attack the mutineers.As they were on their way, a shout and a loud oath from Hagger, who saw them coming, called the attention of his followers, the boatswain throwing himself before the captain at the moment Ap Reece was about with his hanger to sever the lashings which bound him. The surgeon was therefore compelled to use his weapon to defend his own life, for the boatswain, seeing what he was about, attacked him with the greatest fury, and a desperate combat ensued. Lizard and the other men, foiled in their attempt to release some of the officers, were fighting for their lives. Dick and his party were, however, able to keep their immediate opponents at bay, the chief interest centring between Ap Reece and the boatswain. Hagger was a huge, powerful man, with around bullet-head covered by black shaggy hair, and a face of the bull-dog type. Ap Reece, on the contrary, was a slight active man, but he made up by activity what he wanted in strength. He, too, had science, which the boatswain had not, and altogether the combatants were not unevenly matched. The great strength of the boatswain gave him, however, somewhat the advantage, as he wisely only stood on the defensive, allowing the surgeon to exhaust his powers. Ap Reece sprang round and round him—now he retreated, now he advanced, but to no purpose—Hagger was not to be betrayed into abandoning his tactics. He waited his opportunity. It came. The surgeon’s foot slipped, and unable to recover himself, his knees came with great force on the deck. At that instant a flash of lightning darting from the clouds revealed the combatants to each other.“Hagger, I saved your life once when all hope seemed gone,” exclaimed Ap Reece, as the mutineer’s weapon was about to descend on his head. “I don’t ask for my life from you or such a one as you. Strike, and add a gross act of folly to your crimes and madness. But the fever has not left the ship yet; and the time will come ere long when you and your comrades in your night’s work will want my aid, and will be ready to give for it all the gold you have got in your possession. Strike, I say.”The boatswain’s hanger was again lifted as if to strike, when one of his own party sprang forward.“Hold, hold, Master Hagger,” he cried out, interposing his own weapon. “Our surgeon speaks the truth. We, any one of us, may want doctoring ere an hour be over, and who’s to doctor us an’ we trust to Tim Rosemerry, who swears he knows the whole art, from having served an apprenticeship for six mouths to a foreign leech in the city of Westminster? I put it, mates, are we to have a doctor who knows nothing, or a friend who has set many of us on his legs when we thought that we were never to walk again?”“Let the doctor live! let the doctor live!” exclaimed all the men, surrounding the boatswain, who dropped the point of his weapon.“Thanks, friends. I accept my life, for I have no wish to lose it,” said Ap Reece, rising to his feet. “The sick I will doctor as before; but remember, I will sanction no act of violence or cruelty while I remain with you.”“Oh, we are all honourable men here,” cried several of the men in a derisive tone, to which remark the surgeon thought it imprudent to reply.While this scene was acting, Dick Lizard and his companions were exchanging blows with the rest of the mutineers; but overwhelmed by numbers, two were killed, and Dick and another were brought to the deck badly wounded. Dick had been a general favourite; and although the mutineers were exasperated with him for the attack he had made on them, and for the unmeasured abuse he now heaped on their heads, they agreed he was too good a fellow to be put out of the way, and that if he would keep a civil tongue in his head, he should live. This was a somewhat difficult task for honest Dick, though, when his life was offered, like a wise man he accepted it without thinking it necessary to make any stipulations.The mutineers had now decidedly gained the day; the officers were forced at the sword’s point to go below, and each was confined in his own cabin. The threatening state of the weather made Hagger anxious to arrange matters. There was no wind, but an ominous swell had got up which made the ship roll heavily, and loud claps of thunder rattled through the sky, while vivid flashes of forked lightning darted from the clouds, hissing like fiery serpents along the surface of the ocean, or playing round the masts and threatening the Lion with destruction.Waymouth lay in his cabin, feeling like a chained beast of the forest eager to be loose, indignant at the treachery practised on him, and feeling also the probability that the ignorant men who had been guilty of this act of atrocity would wreck the ship, and involve both themselves and him and his officers in a common destruction. He knew that they were totally unaware of the intricacies of the navigation through which the Lion had got so far to the eastward, and that it would be impossible for them unaided to retrace their course. He had perhaps a grim satisfaction in contemplating this, though all his own prospects of wealth would vanish, and life itself be lost. At length, however, the very intensity of his feelings overcame him, and he fell asleep. His sleep was far from refreshing, and his dreams were strangely troubled. Yet on he slept for some time, he believed. Whenever he felt himself waking, he forced himself to doze off again rather than awake to the disagreeable realities of his position. At length, however, the violent rolling and pitching of the ship roused him completely up. The roar of the sea, the howling of the wind, the dashing of the waves on the side of the ship, the rattling of blocks and ropes, and the tramp and shouts of men overhead, convinced him that the long-expected strife of the elements had begun. The rolling and pitching and jerking of the ship became more and more violent, the washing of the water up the sides and over the deck showed him that the sea was running high, and the way in which the ship occasionally heeled over showed him that the gale was blowing furiously. The sounds which reached him from the deck told him also that efforts were being made to shorten sail.“The mutinous varlets! Now is the occasion to prove their seamanship, if they have any,” he muttered to himself. “What the idiots will do it is hard to say, except let the good ship drive on the rocks. What are they about now? There’s not one of them can stow the mainsail properly but Hagger in a gale like this. They’ll capsize the stout ship, or send the masts over the sides—the idiots!”Thus he spoke, or rather thought, for some time. The ship plunged on through the mountainous seas, her timbers creaking and groaning as if they were about to be torn asunder. The cabin was in obscurity, for all the hatches were battened down, and not without good reason, for the foaming seas often broke so completely over the ship that without this precaution she might have filled and gone bodily down. Waymouth believed that the day was advancing from the sensations of hunger which he was beginning to experience. In vain he tried to release himself from the ropes which bound him. The more he struggled the tighter they became. Nor could he manage to get his mouth down to any part of the rope, or he would have tried to gnaw it asunder with his teeth. He shouted over and over again to his friends in captivity; but though the sound of his voice reached them, he could not, from the noises in the interior of the ship, make out what they said in return. They were evidently as securely bound as he was, and also confined in their cabins.“Patience is a virtue, I doubt not, but it is sore difficult to exercise it just now,” he said to himself, with a mocking laugh.Suddenly the ship heeled over more than ever—there was a loud crash—the sea seemed with fierce roars to be washing over her—shrieks and cries of distress reached his ears even where he lay. Again she righted, and seemed to go tearing on through the ocean as before.“One or more of our masts have gone,” muttered Waymouth. “Well, let them go; it is but the beginning of the end. The sooner those scoundrels find out their folly the better. Had we shortened sail as I was about to do, this disaster would have been avoided.”On, on went the ship, plunging down, again to be lifted up, truly reeling to and fro like a drunken man. Once more she was pressed down; another fearful crash followed, and there were piercing shrieks and cries. Waymouth believed fully that the ship was foundering; but no, she rose again, and rushed on still more unsteadily than before. On, on she went. Time was pressing. A hatch was removed for an instant, and a gleam of light penetrated into the cabin. Again it was obscured, and a lantern was lighted; three or four men descended. Waymouth heard them go to his lieutenant’s cabin. They were offering him the command, if he would help them out of their difficulties. An indignant refusal was the reply.“Scoundrels that you are, you may all sink with us before I’ll take charge of the ship while the rightful commander remains alive,” said Carlingford.They then applied to Raymond, who was known to be a good navigator. His reply was of the same nature. None of the temptations the mutineers could hold out would induce an officer of any rank acquainted with navigation to take command. A consultation was then held, and after some time the mutineers approached the cabin where Waymouth lay. The light of a lantern flashed on his eyes, and, the door opening, Hagger, Soper, and other mutineers stood before him.“What is your pleasure with me, knaves?” he asked in a haughty, undaunted tone.“An’ please your honour, the ship is driving we know not where, and is like to strike on some strange rock or island, if she go not down first,” said Hagger, holding his hat in his hand.“Maybe: it is what I expected,” answered Waymouth calmly. “When fools take the helm, they are certain to steer to destruction.”“An’ please your honour, we wish to know whether you will please to take charge of the ship, and save her and all on board,” said Soper humbly.“Likely enough—to have my throat cut, and the throats of the gentlemen with me, by you mutinous varlets, when you find the ship in safety,” answered Waymouth. “No, knaves; you have brought yourselves into this strait, and you may get out of it as best you may.”“If your honour will take command and save the ship, and overlook our conduct, we will be obedient in future,” said Soper, who acted as spokesman.“Seize that man, then, and put him in irons first,” answered Waymouth, casting his glance on Hagger, who clapped his hand on his hanger, as if about to defend himself, but the rest threw themselves on him, and bore him in spite of his great strength to the deck.“Now haste and release my officers, and beg them to come here,” continued Waymouth, addressing one of the men who was not required to hold the chief mutineer.Raymond, Carlingford, Master Walker, Ap Reece, and the other officers quickly made their appearance, surprised at the turn matters had taken. In their presence he made the mutineers cast off his fetters, and ordering Hagger to be bound and secured in a place of safety, he exclaimed, “Follow me, gentlemen!” and sprang with an elastic step on deck. The scene which met his eye was, however, far from encouraging. Two of the masts had gone by the board, and now hung with a mass of rigging and shattered spars over the sides. Part of the foremast only was standing, on which the foresail was set, driving the ship on furiously through the water, while the seas, foaming up on either hand, threatened to overwhelm her, and sent the masts and spars dashing like battering-rams against the sides as if about to stave them in. All the boats were gone or knocked to pieces, and booms and caboose—indeed, the sea had made a clean sweep of every thing movable on deck. Fearfully, too, was the number of the crew diminished—not a dozen mutineers remained alive; the rest had been carried away when the masts fell, or had been swept off the decks by the raging seas which had broken on board. The officers and men who had remained faithful outnumbered the mutineers. It appeared, however, that human skill and courage would be but of little avail, and that the gallant ship was doomed to destruction.“The scoundrels have summoned us too late,” said Waymouth to Miles Carlingford, a sigh, unheard amid the howling of the tempest, for the first time escaping his bosom. “Howbeit, we’ll do what men can do to save the ship. Summon all hands with axes to clear the wreck of the masts.”In an instant every man, accustomed to the commanding voice of his chief, was actively employed. Ropes and broken spars were quickly severed, and the shattered masts and their heavy rigging were soon floating away astern. The huge foresail, which had hitherto threatened to tear the mast out of the ship, was skilfully reefed, and with somewhat diminished speed the Lion plunged onward through the foaming ocean. Still the rate at which she drove was far too great for safety, yet all had been done that could be done, and Waymouth and his followers resigned themselves like brave believing men to the rule of Him who rules the universe, and without whose will not a sparrow falls to the ground. As they tore on, the masts of a tall ship appeared ahead. Her more lofty spars and masts were snugly housed, and with the little sail she carried, evenly balanced, she rode hove to nearly head to wind. On, on drove the Lion. It was feared that she might strike the stranger. With difficulty this was avoided. People were seen on the stranger’s deck, but no assistance could be expected from them. No flag flew from her peak. Her nation could not be ascertained; she might be a Hollander or a Portugal—scarcely English, from the appearance of the people and her build; certainly not one of Admiral Wood’s squadron. The people on board waved and shouted, but their voices were unheard. A board was shown, but ere what was written on it could be deciphered the Lion had driven a long way by. Soon the stranger was lost to sight; no aid could be hoped for from her. On, on drove the once-gallant Lion, now, a helpless wreck on the waste of waters. Far from abating, the fury of the storm increased. Another damage was discovered; the wreck of the mast had struck the rudder, and now a sea carried it away. Dreadfully the battered ship laboured through the foaming seas. The well was sounded. Aghast, the carpenters declared that there were seven feet of water in the hold.“To the pumps! to the pumps!” was the cry.The diminished crew began to labour at the pumps, but weakened by disease they could hardly gain on the water. Buckets were employed, and those who could not work at the pumps passed them from hand to hand from below, but even thus but little progress was made in freeing the ship. All hands must work. The arch-mutineer Hagger was released from his shackles, and came to take his spell at the pumps. Without remonstrance he obeyed, though somewhat sulkily. The sick came from below, but soon sank overcome with the exertion. Others, too, who had hitherto escaped were struck by the fever. Those whom the sea had spared disease now grasped, and the numbers of the crew of the ill-fated Lion began again fearfully to diminish. Still the gale blew, and still the ship drove on. At last, the almost unknown Pacific was entered. What land would bring them up no one could tell.They had no chart to guide—no knowledge of the unmeasured ocean across which they were driving. Thus the Lion helplessly pursued her course, the sport of the raging tempest, and vanished, as it were, into obscurity.

Away sailed the Lion, those on board exulting in the rich booty they had obtained, and looking ere many months had passed by once more to tread the shores of Old England and to enjoy the wealth they had gotten with so much toil and danger. Good Master Walker, the minister, did his best to warn them not to trust to the riches they had acquired, that riches are apt to take to themselves wings and flee away, and that it in no way follows that because people possess wealth they will have the power of enjoying it. These and other similar remarks were received by the officers and men in general with no good grace, and Master Walker lost popularity simply because no one could deny the truth of his remarks.

“There is many a slip between the cup and the lip,” he added one day, most greatly to the annoyance of his hearers.

The more conscious people are that a thing may probably come to pass, the more angry they are, if it is against their wish that it should happen, when they are told so. Antony Waymouth was no despiser of gold—or rather the good things of life which gold procures—but he loved his honour more, and he considered it his duty to go in search of the commander-in-chief and the rest of the fleet, if haply they might have reached the rendezvous at Bantam. Waymouth had full experience of the responsibility of power, though he had able assistants in Raymond and his first officer, Carlingford. Several of the crew had for many months shown a mutinous disposition, though the storms to which they had been exposed, the fights in which they had been engaged, and the prospect of the attack on the Castle of San Pedro, had prevented any serious outbreak. Now, however, they loudly expressed their disapproval of continuing the search for Captain Wood, declaring that he and his consorts must long since have perished, and that they, having collected so large an amount of wealth, would be acting like fools to remain out a day longer than they could help. Round the mess-table by day and during the watches of the night the only subject of conversation was the way in which they would spend their wealth when they got on shore. Their disappointment and anger therefore increased greatly when they found that the time for their return might be indefinitely delayed. Those even who had hitherto been obedient began to express themselves in a mutinous manner, and to hint that the sooner another man was captain the better it would, be for all hands fore and aft. This state of things was not unknown to Waymouth and his officers, and it put them on their guard; but while no overt act was committed, it was impossible to take active steps to bring about a change. As at first, Peter Hagger, the boatswain, with his mate and Dick Soper, a seaman, were supposed to be the ringleaders. Though narrowly watched, nothing could be proved Against them. The captain’s two cabin-boys, Oliver Marston and Alfred Stanhope, proud of the approval they had before received, determined to discover, if possible, what was wrong. They had taken Dick Lizard into their councils, assured that he, at all events, might be depended on. In spite of all their wealth and their anticipations of the pleasures it might procure, none of either high or low degree on board could boast of much enjoyment. The happiest person was Master Walker. He was doing his duty, and leaving the consequences in the hand of Heaven. The Island of Java was once more sighted and the Harbour of Bantam entered. No certain news could there be obtained of Captain Wood. Several large ships of the Hollanders had, however, visited the place since their departure, and the people had done their best to spread evil reports of the English. Waymouth cared little for this, but he vowed, should he ever come across the Hollanders, he would make them pay for their slanders, and those who knew him best had no doubt that he would put his threat into execution. Still his chief desire was to go in search of his friends, but even this could not be done without delay, for, he having ordered a survey of the Lion, the carpenters reported that she must undergo a thorough repair before she would be fit to put to sea. No man knew better than the bold captain of the Lion how to get into the good graces of people in power, and he soon gained the confidence and good-will of the King of Bantam. At the same time he was too wise to put more confidence in his majesty than was necessary; he therefore carefully kept concealed from him the amount of wealth the Lion had on board, and rather let him suppose that he and his company were needy adventurers who had yet their fortunes to make at the point of their swords, at the same time that the little they possessed they were ready to expend liberally. This policy answered so well that the repairs of the Lion were allowed to proceed without interruption.

One enemy, however, could by no means be kept at a distance. It was the black fever. While still many necessary repairs were yet to be done, it made its baneful appearance. Strong men who had boldly confronted the fiercest foes and the raging storm turned pale when they heard that it had already carried off six of their shipmates. From that time not a day passed but two or more died. Every one of the company laboured hard to get the ship ready for sea, under the belief that they should leave the fell destroyer behind them. Now the qualities of Master Walker, the chaplain, shone forth brightly, for while others shrank back from attending on the plague-stricken, he boldly went among the sick and attended the dying, giving them spiritual counsel and consolation, tending them, and administering medicines prescribed by the surgeon. Full thirty of her brave crew had succumbed to the destroyer, before the Lion, having been got ready for sea, once more ploughed the waters of the ocean. Still the fever raged. Gladly would those on board have given all their wealth to have escaped with health from the plague-stricken ship. Day after day more and more were called away. A small number only of those who were attacked survived, but so sick and weak did they remain that their recovery was hardly expected.

Waymouth had received intimation that some ships, supposed to be English, had been seen farther to the eastward, and from the description given, believing them to be Captain Wood’s squadron, he steered a course in that direction. On sailed the Lion on her solitary course. The Angel of Death still pursued her, continuing to summon one after another of her crew. Hope of finding his consorts, however, allured the brave captain on in spite of the ravages of the plague and the warnings given him of the increasing discontent of the crew.

“I know the varlets, and fear them not,” he answered. “I showed them before who was master, and will show them again to their cost.”

Meantime, Peter Hagger, the boatswain, had been biding his time and strengthening his party by every device he could think of. He well knew that he was watched, but he strove to throw the captain off his guard by a frankness of manner, an unusual attention to his duties, and the strictness with which all orders were obeyed. He appeared to have succeeded so far as to make Waymouth believe that he had abandoned his evil designs, and might be trusted. In the fore-part of the ship, far down in her inward depths, was situated his principal storeroom. There the light of day had never entered since the huge structure had been put together, nor had fresh air penetrated. It was redolent of pitchy and tarry odours, with numerous others of a far from fragrant character. A large horn lantern hung from a beam above, and shed a sickly light throughout the chamber. Here, seated on chests and casks, with their heads bent forward together as if in earnest consultation, were about a dozen seamen. Their naturally ill-favoured countenances were not improved by long exposure to the burning sun of the tropics. The presiding spirit among them was evidently Peter Hagger, the boatswain.

“Are we all agreed, mates?” he asked in his usual gruff voice.

“All,” said several. “Provided we take no lives,” added others. “The fever has been doing enough of that work lately among us.”

“Dead men tell no tales,” observed Hagger.

“If we secure the gold we need fear neither dead nor living men,” observed one of the men, who, from the tone of his voice, was evidently of superior education to the rest. “If they were ever to come back without a stiver in their pockets, who would take their word against ours, when we are rolling in wealth?”

“But if we don’t heave them overboard or run them up to the yard-arm, what are we to do with them?” was a question put by another speaker.

“Why, land them on a desolate island, or sell them to some of these Easterns, or put them on board a prize with provisions to take them to the nearest shore, that would be giving them a fair chance of escape, and no one need complain,” was the remark of a mutineer who had sided with Hagger.

“That will do,” observed the boatswain. “And now, mates, the sooner we set about this work the better. To my mind there’s no time like the present. Every day we are going farther and farther to the eastward, and every day getting more and more out of our reckoning. Now d’ye see? All we’ve to do is to sail west, and when we get into the longitude of Bon Esperanza Cape, steer north, and we’ll find our way back to Old England, never fear.”

“Ay, ay! with you as captain, Master Hagger,” exclaimed several mutineers, “we shall go straight forward, not be running here and there, looking into this port and that port, and all to no purpose, to look for people who have long since gone to Davy Jones’s locker. Peter Hagger for captain! He’s the man we want.”

Peter Hagger bent forward, for the height of the cabin did not allow him to stand upright.

“Mates, I take your terms,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve no wish to injure any man, least of all Master Waymouth, who has good qualities, I’ll allow; but we must have our rights, and if he has lost his wits—as there’s no doubt he has—it is seemly that some better man should take his place, and as you choose me, mates, why, I’m not the man to gainsay you.”

“All right, Captain Hagger; all right,” said several of the men. “But what is it you would have us do?”

“That’s what I was coming to,” answered Hagger, still more lowering his voice till it was only audible to those who put their ears close to his mouth.

The men talked long and earnestly together, till all their plans seemed matured. Not only were their plans matured, but they appeared confident of success. One by one they stole off from their place of meeting. They had no fear of having been overheard, for, suspecting that such had before been the case, they had now placed sentries to give notice of the approach of any one they might suspect. Separating, they went to their hammocks, and, what may seem strange, all except the arch-mutineer slept as soundly as if their consciences were free from blame. He could not rest; for though he believed that he was on the point of obtaining the object of his desires—the larger portion of the store of wealth contained in the Lion—yet all the time he was conscious that he had not the ability to retain command over the lawless band who had selected him as their leader, nor the knowledge necessary to navigate the ship to an English port. Still he was determined to persevere in his mad course. He trusted to chance for the future. The wealth he was resolved to have at all risks. The following night had been fixed on for the outbreak.

It was the middle watch. The weather even for those latitudes was hot and close. Many of the officers found their cabins too warm to allow them to sleep, and had come on deck to endeavour to obtain rest. Some had thrown themselves down in spots where they were unobserved, and had gone to sleep. Miles Carlingford had charge of the watch, with the two young cabin-boys, Stanhope and Marston, under him. The captain, accompanied by Edward Raymond, after a time came also on deck. Waymouth cast his eyes round the horizon several times as he slowly paced up and down with Raymond.

“I like not the look of the midnight sky,” he observed to Carlingford; “I have known black storms, with fury so terrible that scarcely the stoutest ships could withstand them, spring out of such. We must be on the watch. With our weakened crew we cannot shorten sail as we were wont to do, and yet I would not rouse up the men unnecessarily.”

“Ay, ay, sir, I’ll not let my eyes wink,” answered Carlingford; “but I hope the weather may clear without the storm. Still, there is no telling in these latitudes what may happen. I would we were out of them.”

“So do I, Master Carlingford, believe me, most heartily,” answered the captain. “I promise you, too, that if in two days we do not discover the admiral we will shape a course for the Cape of Bon Esperanza; after recruiting ourselves there we will lose no time in sailing for Old England.”

“It will be a happy time indeed, sir, when we again see the white cliffs of our native land,” remarked Raymond, anxious to keep his chief up to his intentions. “I would that the crew were made acquainted with your intentions; it would tranquillise their minds, and banish the discontent in which they now indulge.”

“They will know in good time,” answered Waymouth, somewhat angrily. “It does not do to yield to their fancies, or they will become masters over those they are bound to obey.”

Scarcely had he spoken when from each of the hatchways, which had been left open on account of the heat, numerous dark forms sprang up, though so silently that neither did he nor the other officers who were looking seaward hear or observe them. Like tigers on their prey the men threw themselves on the knot of officers, who were instantly brought violently to the deck, and pinioned before they had time to cry out. In vain they struggled; they were dragged to the guns, to one of which Waymouth, Carlingford, Raymond, and the two cabin-boys were securely lashed almost before the rest of the officers on deck had sprung to their feet, aroused by the cries they made. None had arms; and the rest of the mutineers, rushing aft, grappled with them, threatening vengeance if they resisted. Surprised and bewildered by the suddenness of the attack, scarcely aware by whom it was made, they were easily knocked down and secured.

The Welsh surgeon, Ap Reece, was below, sleeping soundly in spite of the heat and the noise, fatigued with his attendance on the sick, who were still numerous. The shouts and cries of his struggling brother officers awoke him, and, seizing a rapier and a brace of pistols, which he stuck in his belt, he was about to spring on deck to their assistance, when it occurred to him that it would be wiser to ascertain exactly what was occurring. The words which reached his ears—“Mutiny! mutiny! Help! help! Loyal men to the rescue!”—showed him clearly the state of the case.

“The scoundrels will be waiting to knock all who are below on the head as they come up,” he thought to himself; “but I will disappoint them.”

Thereon he began to make his way forward, where he was sure of finding some of the men ready to side with him. There was a passage from one end of the ship to the other, and at the division between the officers’ quarters and the fore-part a sentry was usually placed, but sickness had so diminished the numbers of the crew that there were not enough men to perform any but the most necessary duties. Ap Reece groped his way on in darkness. He heard some men hallooing out, but it was evident that they were bound, and could render him no assistance till they were released. On a sudden a hand grasped his arm.

“Who is this?” said a voice which he recognised as that of honest Dick Lizard.

“A friend to all hands,” answered the surgeon. “I hope that you have not turned mutineer, Dick.”

“No, indeed, I should hope not, sir,” replied Dick indignantly; “I have a guess of what’s going on. What can we do to help the officers? All the true men are bound hand and foot, and I’m the only one who managed to slip away.”

“We won’t despair, Dick; are you armed?” asked the surgeon.

“I’ve a hanger, sir,” was the answer.

“Come here and I’ll give you some pistols,” said Ap Reece. “Now we’ll first loose all the true men, and then make a rush together and release the captain, if we can find him. With a sword in his hand he’ll soon give good account of the mutineers and bring them to terms.”

The surgeon, stepping back, armed Dick as he had promised, and together they found their way without interruption to the fore-hatch. As they got their heads up to the coamings they perceived that the scuffling had ceased, though the voices of a few of the officers were heard upbraiding the men for their treachery.

“My friends, I beseech you to be silent. Let me speak to these misguided men,” said a voice which they recognised to be that of Master Walker, the minister. “Mutineers!—for such you are—you are triumphing now in the success of your scheme, and the fancied possession of all the wealth this ship contains; but first let me ask you what does it advantage you now? Nothing. What can it ever advantage you? You can never enjoy it; for be assured that the vengeance of Heaven will overtake you sooner or later; even now, wretched men, it is preparing for you.”

“Cease, cease, Master Walker,” exclaimed Hagger, stepping up to the minister. “We wish you no ill; necessity makes us act as we do. We want to injure no one, but we won’t stand opposition, and I for one cannot be answerable for the consequences.”

It is needless to say that this threat was accompanied by numerous oaths which need not be repeated; in truth, Peter Hagger never spoke without interlarding his remarks with expressions of that description.

Ap Reece guessed correctly that the appeal of Master Walker would have no present beneficial effect, and therefore he and Lizard slipped down below again and made their way to the cabins of some of the inferior officers whom the latter believed had not joined in the mutiny. Two of them, the gunner and carpenter, were found lashed in their berths, not having the slightest conception of what had occurred, and believing that they were the only sufferers. A few brief words explained matters to them. Three other men who had positively refused to join the mutiny were found lashed in different parts of the ship. They were released, hangers were placed in their hands, and, together, led by Ap Reece, they sprang on deck and rushed aft to where the officers lay bound, their principal object being to release Captain Waymouth and then to attack the mutineers.

As they were on their way, a shout and a loud oath from Hagger, who saw them coming, called the attention of his followers, the boatswain throwing himself before the captain at the moment Ap Reece was about with his hanger to sever the lashings which bound him. The surgeon was therefore compelled to use his weapon to defend his own life, for the boatswain, seeing what he was about, attacked him with the greatest fury, and a desperate combat ensued. Lizard and the other men, foiled in their attempt to release some of the officers, were fighting for their lives. Dick and his party were, however, able to keep their immediate opponents at bay, the chief interest centring between Ap Reece and the boatswain. Hagger was a huge, powerful man, with around bullet-head covered by black shaggy hair, and a face of the bull-dog type. Ap Reece, on the contrary, was a slight active man, but he made up by activity what he wanted in strength. He, too, had science, which the boatswain had not, and altogether the combatants were not unevenly matched. The great strength of the boatswain gave him, however, somewhat the advantage, as he wisely only stood on the defensive, allowing the surgeon to exhaust his powers. Ap Reece sprang round and round him—now he retreated, now he advanced, but to no purpose—Hagger was not to be betrayed into abandoning his tactics. He waited his opportunity. It came. The surgeon’s foot slipped, and unable to recover himself, his knees came with great force on the deck. At that instant a flash of lightning darting from the clouds revealed the combatants to each other.

“Hagger, I saved your life once when all hope seemed gone,” exclaimed Ap Reece, as the mutineer’s weapon was about to descend on his head. “I don’t ask for my life from you or such a one as you. Strike, and add a gross act of folly to your crimes and madness. But the fever has not left the ship yet; and the time will come ere long when you and your comrades in your night’s work will want my aid, and will be ready to give for it all the gold you have got in your possession. Strike, I say.”

The boatswain’s hanger was again lifted as if to strike, when one of his own party sprang forward.

“Hold, hold, Master Hagger,” he cried out, interposing his own weapon. “Our surgeon speaks the truth. We, any one of us, may want doctoring ere an hour be over, and who’s to doctor us an’ we trust to Tim Rosemerry, who swears he knows the whole art, from having served an apprenticeship for six mouths to a foreign leech in the city of Westminster? I put it, mates, are we to have a doctor who knows nothing, or a friend who has set many of us on his legs when we thought that we were never to walk again?”

“Let the doctor live! let the doctor live!” exclaimed all the men, surrounding the boatswain, who dropped the point of his weapon.

“Thanks, friends. I accept my life, for I have no wish to lose it,” said Ap Reece, rising to his feet. “The sick I will doctor as before; but remember, I will sanction no act of violence or cruelty while I remain with you.”

“Oh, we are all honourable men here,” cried several of the men in a derisive tone, to which remark the surgeon thought it imprudent to reply.

While this scene was acting, Dick Lizard and his companions were exchanging blows with the rest of the mutineers; but overwhelmed by numbers, two were killed, and Dick and another were brought to the deck badly wounded. Dick had been a general favourite; and although the mutineers were exasperated with him for the attack he had made on them, and for the unmeasured abuse he now heaped on their heads, they agreed he was too good a fellow to be put out of the way, and that if he would keep a civil tongue in his head, he should live. This was a somewhat difficult task for honest Dick, though, when his life was offered, like a wise man he accepted it without thinking it necessary to make any stipulations.

The mutineers had now decidedly gained the day; the officers were forced at the sword’s point to go below, and each was confined in his own cabin. The threatening state of the weather made Hagger anxious to arrange matters. There was no wind, but an ominous swell had got up which made the ship roll heavily, and loud claps of thunder rattled through the sky, while vivid flashes of forked lightning darted from the clouds, hissing like fiery serpents along the surface of the ocean, or playing round the masts and threatening the Lion with destruction.

Waymouth lay in his cabin, feeling like a chained beast of the forest eager to be loose, indignant at the treachery practised on him, and feeling also the probability that the ignorant men who had been guilty of this act of atrocity would wreck the ship, and involve both themselves and him and his officers in a common destruction. He knew that they were totally unaware of the intricacies of the navigation through which the Lion had got so far to the eastward, and that it would be impossible for them unaided to retrace their course. He had perhaps a grim satisfaction in contemplating this, though all his own prospects of wealth would vanish, and life itself be lost. At length, however, the very intensity of his feelings overcame him, and he fell asleep. His sleep was far from refreshing, and his dreams were strangely troubled. Yet on he slept for some time, he believed. Whenever he felt himself waking, he forced himself to doze off again rather than awake to the disagreeable realities of his position. At length, however, the violent rolling and pitching of the ship roused him completely up. The roar of the sea, the howling of the wind, the dashing of the waves on the side of the ship, the rattling of blocks and ropes, and the tramp and shouts of men overhead, convinced him that the long-expected strife of the elements had begun. The rolling and pitching and jerking of the ship became more and more violent, the washing of the water up the sides and over the deck showed him that the sea was running high, and the way in which the ship occasionally heeled over showed him that the gale was blowing furiously. The sounds which reached him from the deck told him also that efforts were being made to shorten sail.

“The mutinous varlets! Now is the occasion to prove their seamanship, if they have any,” he muttered to himself. “What the idiots will do it is hard to say, except let the good ship drive on the rocks. What are they about now? There’s not one of them can stow the mainsail properly but Hagger in a gale like this. They’ll capsize the stout ship, or send the masts over the sides—the idiots!”

Thus he spoke, or rather thought, for some time. The ship plunged on through the mountainous seas, her timbers creaking and groaning as if they were about to be torn asunder. The cabin was in obscurity, for all the hatches were battened down, and not without good reason, for the foaming seas often broke so completely over the ship that without this precaution she might have filled and gone bodily down. Waymouth believed that the day was advancing from the sensations of hunger which he was beginning to experience. In vain he tried to release himself from the ropes which bound him. The more he struggled the tighter they became. Nor could he manage to get his mouth down to any part of the rope, or he would have tried to gnaw it asunder with his teeth. He shouted over and over again to his friends in captivity; but though the sound of his voice reached them, he could not, from the noises in the interior of the ship, make out what they said in return. They were evidently as securely bound as he was, and also confined in their cabins.

“Patience is a virtue, I doubt not, but it is sore difficult to exercise it just now,” he said to himself, with a mocking laugh.

Suddenly the ship heeled over more than ever—there was a loud crash—the sea seemed with fierce roars to be washing over her—shrieks and cries of distress reached his ears even where he lay. Again she righted, and seemed to go tearing on through the ocean as before.

“One or more of our masts have gone,” muttered Waymouth. “Well, let them go; it is but the beginning of the end. The sooner those scoundrels find out their folly the better. Had we shortened sail as I was about to do, this disaster would have been avoided.”

On, on went the ship, plunging down, again to be lifted up, truly reeling to and fro like a drunken man. Once more she was pressed down; another fearful crash followed, and there were piercing shrieks and cries. Waymouth believed fully that the ship was foundering; but no, she rose again, and rushed on still more unsteadily than before. On, on she went. Time was pressing. A hatch was removed for an instant, and a gleam of light penetrated into the cabin. Again it was obscured, and a lantern was lighted; three or four men descended. Waymouth heard them go to his lieutenant’s cabin. They were offering him the command, if he would help them out of their difficulties. An indignant refusal was the reply.

“Scoundrels that you are, you may all sink with us before I’ll take charge of the ship while the rightful commander remains alive,” said Carlingford.

They then applied to Raymond, who was known to be a good navigator. His reply was of the same nature. None of the temptations the mutineers could hold out would induce an officer of any rank acquainted with navigation to take command. A consultation was then held, and after some time the mutineers approached the cabin where Waymouth lay. The light of a lantern flashed on his eyes, and, the door opening, Hagger, Soper, and other mutineers stood before him.

“What is your pleasure with me, knaves?” he asked in a haughty, undaunted tone.

“An’ please your honour, the ship is driving we know not where, and is like to strike on some strange rock or island, if she go not down first,” said Hagger, holding his hat in his hand.

“Maybe: it is what I expected,” answered Waymouth calmly. “When fools take the helm, they are certain to steer to destruction.”

“An’ please your honour, we wish to know whether you will please to take charge of the ship, and save her and all on board,” said Soper humbly.

“Likely enough—to have my throat cut, and the throats of the gentlemen with me, by you mutinous varlets, when you find the ship in safety,” answered Waymouth. “No, knaves; you have brought yourselves into this strait, and you may get out of it as best you may.”

“If your honour will take command and save the ship, and overlook our conduct, we will be obedient in future,” said Soper, who acted as spokesman.

“Seize that man, then, and put him in irons first,” answered Waymouth, casting his glance on Hagger, who clapped his hand on his hanger, as if about to defend himself, but the rest threw themselves on him, and bore him in spite of his great strength to the deck.

“Now haste and release my officers, and beg them to come here,” continued Waymouth, addressing one of the men who was not required to hold the chief mutineer.

Raymond, Carlingford, Master Walker, Ap Reece, and the other officers quickly made their appearance, surprised at the turn matters had taken. In their presence he made the mutineers cast off his fetters, and ordering Hagger to be bound and secured in a place of safety, he exclaimed, “Follow me, gentlemen!” and sprang with an elastic step on deck. The scene which met his eye was, however, far from encouraging. Two of the masts had gone by the board, and now hung with a mass of rigging and shattered spars over the sides. Part of the foremast only was standing, on which the foresail was set, driving the ship on furiously through the water, while the seas, foaming up on either hand, threatened to overwhelm her, and sent the masts and spars dashing like battering-rams against the sides as if about to stave them in. All the boats were gone or knocked to pieces, and booms and caboose—indeed, the sea had made a clean sweep of every thing movable on deck. Fearfully, too, was the number of the crew diminished—not a dozen mutineers remained alive; the rest had been carried away when the masts fell, or had been swept off the decks by the raging seas which had broken on board. The officers and men who had remained faithful outnumbered the mutineers. It appeared, however, that human skill and courage would be but of little avail, and that the gallant ship was doomed to destruction.

“The scoundrels have summoned us too late,” said Waymouth to Miles Carlingford, a sigh, unheard amid the howling of the tempest, for the first time escaping his bosom. “Howbeit, we’ll do what men can do to save the ship. Summon all hands with axes to clear the wreck of the masts.”

In an instant every man, accustomed to the commanding voice of his chief, was actively employed. Ropes and broken spars were quickly severed, and the shattered masts and their heavy rigging were soon floating away astern. The huge foresail, which had hitherto threatened to tear the mast out of the ship, was skilfully reefed, and with somewhat diminished speed the Lion plunged onward through the foaming ocean. Still the rate at which she drove was far too great for safety, yet all had been done that could be done, and Waymouth and his followers resigned themselves like brave believing men to the rule of Him who rules the universe, and without whose will not a sparrow falls to the ground. As they tore on, the masts of a tall ship appeared ahead. Her more lofty spars and masts were snugly housed, and with the little sail she carried, evenly balanced, she rode hove to nearly head to wind. On, on drove the Lion. It was feared that she might strike the stranger. With difficulty this was avoided. People were seen on the stranger’s deck, but no assistance could be expected from them. No flag flew from her peak. Her nation could not be ascertained; she might be a Hollander or a Portugal—scarcely English, from the appearance of the people and her build; certainly not one of Admiral Wood’s squadron. The people on board waved and shouted, but their voices were unheard. A board was shown, but ere what was written on it could be deciphered the Lion had driven a long way by. Soon the stranger was lost to sight; no aid could be hoped for from her. On, on drove the once-gallant Lion, now, a helpless wreck on the waste of waters. Far from abating, the fury of the storm increased. Another damage was discovered; the wreck of the mast had struck the rudder, and now a sea carried it away. Dreadfully the battered ship laboured through the foaming seas. The well was sounded. Aghast, the carpenters declared that there were seven feet of water in the hold.

“To the pumps! to the pumps!” was the cry.

The diminished crew began to labour at the pumps, but weakened by disease they could hardly gain on the water. Buckets were employed, and those who could not work at the pumps passed them from hand to hand from below, but even thus but little progress was made in freeing the ship. All hands must work. The arch-mutineer Hagger was released from his shackles, and came to take his spell at the pumps. Without remonstrance he obeyed, though somewhat sulkily. The sick came from below, but soon sank overcome with the exertion. Others, too, who had hitherto escaped were struck by the fever. Those whom the sea had spared disease now grasped, and the numbers of the crew of the ill-fated Lion began again fearfully to diminish. Still the gale blew, and still the ship drove on. At last, the almost unknown Pacific was entered. What land would bring them up no one could tell.

They had no chart to guide—no knowledge of the unmeasured ocean across which they were driving. Thus the Lion helplessly pursued her course, the sport of the raging tempest, and vanished, as it were, into obscurity.

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