CHAPTER V.

Marine Phraseology. Approach of the Piratical Brig. History of Captain Rowland. A Conflict expected. A Boat from the Shore. The Ship Surrenders. Sudden appearance of Blackbeard and Ellen Armstrong on board of the Brig. Heroic Conduct of Arthur Huntington. Ellen steps between him and Death. The Result. Ellen in Despair.

'Mast-head, there!'

'Halloo.'

'Keep a sharp look-out there for a sail.'

'Aye, aye, sir.'

The above short but professional dialogue took place between Captain Roderick Rowland, of the good ship Gladiator, and his third officer, (a Mr. Summers by name,) who had been sent to the main-top gallant mast-head immediately after the Earl of Derwentwater and his companions had left the vessel, with the single order, at first, to keep a sharp look-out for the many rocks and reefs which surrounded the island, but Summers had not assumed his station for many minutes before he was peremptorily ordered, (as we have above recorded,) to look out for sails as well as for rocks, which caused the sailor who stood upon the other end of the cross-trees, and who was on regular mast-head duty, thus to address the third officer,—

'Do you suppose, Mr. Summers, that our captain really expects to fall in with a sail in this out-o'-the-way kind of spot?'

'Of course he does,' replied Summers, 'or he wouldn't have told me to look out for one. But why shouldn't a sail be seen here, Bill, as well as anywhere else?'

'Well, I can't exactly say, sir,' answered Bill, (who, by the way, was a fine specimen of a rough and rugged old tar,) 'but I have understood that ships in general have of late years given this little bit of an island a wide berth.'

'Did ever you hear the reason why?' asked Summers.

'Yes, sir, more than forty times, and if my watch wasn't almost out I could spin you a yarn as long as our main-top bowline about the "reason," as you call it.'

Smiling at the seriousness with which the old tar had spoken, the officer replied,

'O never mind the yarn now, Bill, nor the reason either, but look sharp there, about three points off our bow, and see if you cannot catch a glimpse of something high and white, like a sail: I believe I can.'

'And so can I, too, sir,' exclaimed Bill, after having looked for a few moments in the direction intimated.

'It's a strange sail, then, sure enough,' answered the third officer.

'There's no mistake about that, sir,' replied Bill. 'What do you make her out to be, sir?'

'I should take her to be a full rigged brig,' answered Summers.

'So should I,' rejoined the sailor. 'She has got studding sails out a-low and aloft, and appears to be coming up with us hand over fist. Shall I sing out to the captain, sir?'

'No—I will myself. On deck, there!'

'Halloo; what do you see?' answered the captain.

'A full rigged brig, sir.'

'Where away?'

'Three points off our weather-bow.'

'How does she appear to be heading?'

'Direct for us, sir,' was the answer, and as it reached the ears of the captain, he turned to the first officer, who stood beside him, and said—

'Mr. Howe, that strange vessel must be a pirate.'

'What makes you think so, sir?' asked the first lieutenant.

'Because,' replied the Captain, 'if she was anything else she would not be steering directly for us with studding-sails set.'

'Perhaps it may be some vessel in distress,' suggested the lieutenant.

'That may be the case, though I doubt it much,' answered the captain, abruptly, 'but, as I do not wish to create a premature and unnecessary alarm amongst the passengers, we will put the ship on the opposite tack, and then if this stranger is in distress he will show a signal.'

In accordance with the above decision of her commander, the Gladiator, which had been previously standing off from the land, was, (to use a nautical phrase,) immediately put about, which caused her to head in towards the land, and this movement brought the strange brig on the weather quarter, or nearly astern of the ship, and also made her visible to the first lieutenant, who stood eagerly watching for her appearance, on the Gladiator's deck. As soon as he felt surethat his eyes had not deceived him, he said, addressing the captain,

'There she is, sir.'

'Where?' exclaimed Rowland, eagerly, snatching his spy-glass from its place in the cabin gangway.

'She is in plain sight, sir,' answered the lieutenant, about one point off our weather-quarter.'

'Ah, I see her,' exclaimed the captain after he had looked for a moment through his spy-glass in the direction intimated.

'Does she show any signal, sir?'

'She does not,' replied Rowland, 'and I am convinced she is a piratical vessel. Therefore, Mr. Howe, you will see the ship instantly cleared for action.'

Whilst this last order of the captain was in progress of execution, Rowland, spy-glass in hand, ascended the mizzen rigging of the ship, and kept his eyes intently fixed upon the brig, thus soliloquising as he did so:—

'It is rather a delicate, not to say desperate game, which I have undertaken to play, though so far I have the vanity to think that I have acted my part to admiration. By the most consummate art and address I managed to gain the command of this noble ship, and no one on board, as far as I can learn, has the least suspicion of the manner in which I intend to dispose of her. So far, so good. Now as we are pretty snug in with the land, I will take a look in that direction and see if I can discover what measures are in progress on shore.'

So saying he adjusted his glass to his right eye and turned his gaze towards that part of the island on which the earl and his companions had landed, and after having looked attentively for a few moments in that direction, he exclaimed, whilst a smile of exultation passed across his features,

'Ah, Rowland, you're a deep one, and a fortunate one, too. Every thing connected with your plans seems to prosper, on land as well as sea. Blackbeard has proved himself a good assistant, too, for I can see that he has taken good care of the young ladies, whilst at the same time I perceive that he is about to send the gentlemen back again to their old quarters. I must wear ship, I suppose, and take them on board.' 'On deck, there!'

'Aye, aye, sir,' answered the first lieutenant.

'Put the ship upon the other tack, and brace the head-yards sharp up, leaving the main and main top-sail yards square.'

After this last order had been duly and promptly complied with Captain Rowland descended quickly to the deck, upon reaching which, was thus addressed by his first officer:—

'See, sir, how fast that strange brig gains upon us.'

'I see she does,' answered Rowland, 'and I am sorry that we are obliged to lay aback here, when we should be trying to get the weather-gauge of her. But there is no help for it, for I observe that the earl and his companions have left the shore, and they are now pulling for dear life in order to reach us in time.'

Leaving for the present, the noble Gladiator, with her decks clear for action, and her brave crew awaiting in eager silence, the nearer approach of the piratical vessel, we will proceed to give our readers as much information of the previous character of Captain Roderick Rowland, as is consistent with the present condition and future progress of the scenes of our story, in some of which he is destined to act a conspicuous part.

Descended of wealthy, honorable, and respectable parents, who resided at the time of his birth, (which event happened some forty years before the commencement of our story,) young Rowland, gave during his boyhood such evidences of extraordinary natural capabilities, and superior intellectual capacity, as led those who were connected and acquainted with him to suppose that he might, at some future day, rise to a high rank in the British navy, for which service he seemed to have an unconquerable predilection, and which he entered as midshipman at the age of sixteen. Then it was that his true character began to develope itself, so that during his first cruise, its natural deformity became so apparent as to cause the rest of the officers to look with fear and astonishment upon one, in whom the gifts of extraordinary talents seemed to have been lavished, only to become blended with cunning, artfulness and licentious profligacy, whose disposition was mean and avaricious, and whose temper, though not violent, was cruel, revengeful and unforgiving.

Although young Rowland was also a complete master of the art of dissimulation he did not deem it worth his while to exercise it among the young gentleman of his mess, and he had been but a short time on board His Majesty's ship Vixen, before he was very much feared, and very cordially hated by his equals, whilst he was looked upon with uneasiness and disgust by his superiors.

All these things combined together, rendered Rowland's situation anything but agreeable; so after having been a twelvemonth in theservice, he very abruptly left it by taking, what is vulgarly called, a 'French leave' of the Vixen and her officers, whilst that vessel was taking in provisions and water at the island of Madagascar. Here, Rowland, at the age of eighteen, soon fell in with a gang of American and English bucaniers, who, some years previous to that time, had pitched upon this island as a convenient rendezvous to which they might be easily able to repair for recruits and recreation after having, (as they often did,) successfully robbed the rich homeward bound East Indiamen, for whom they usually laid in wait near the pitch of the Cape of Good Hope.

It required but very little persuasion on the part of the pirates to induce one to join them, whose spirit was congenial with theirs, so he very soon became one of the most active and daring of their number. Courage, cunning and cruelty were considered by them to be the most important qualifications of a bona-fide bucanier, and they soon found that these were possessed by Rowland, in a most superlative degree, and this added to the influence of his talents and early education, caused him to rise rapidly to a station of command among them. As it was his motto 'to make hay while the sun shines,' he sailed as soon as possible from Madagascar, from which he had not been absent but twenty days when he fell in with and captured a Spanish Galleon, bound from Genoa to Lisbon, laden with a large amount of gold and silver ornaments, which was the property of the church, and was under the care of a number of ecclesiastics who had taken passage in the unfortunate vessel.

There were a number of other passengers on board, amongst whom was Don Fernando Herrera, who was accompanied by his daughter a beautiful Castilian maiden, then about seventeen years of age, who doated upon her father with all the fondness of a pure and filial affection.

As Rowland acted almost invariably on the principle that dead men tell no tales, he caused all the passengers to be put to death, in detail, until it came the turn of Herrera. As he was about to be cast into the sea, his daughter sprang wildly forward, and kneeling before the cruel pirate captain, she beseeched him in such earnest and pathetic tones to spare her father's life, or let her die in his stead, that Rowland, fired by the voluptuousness of her extreme beauty, and perhaps touched by her tears, promised to spare her father on condition that she would become his wife. Such were the dread alternatives. Death for her father and herself on one hand, and the sacrifice forever ofher happiness and peace of mind on the other. In the extremity of her terror, Clarice, (for that was her name,) chose the latter, and that very same night she was united to Rowland, by her own priest and confessor who was compelled to officiate in the ceremony, and her father was compelled to will all of his vast riches in the event of his death to his murderous son-in-law. After having taken to himself a wife in the above strange and summary manner, Rowland repaired to the West Indies, where his father-in-law died soon after his arrival, leaving to the pirate, a vast amount of money and other property, which enabled him to establish himself at Havana, in a most splendid and magnificent manner. His inordinate desire for wealth however still remained unsatiated, and although he left off all open communication with his former associates, (the bucaniers,) still he secretly patronized them, and in return was made acquainted with the result of all their efforts and received a goodly share of their plunder.

Three years had passed away, and Clarice in the interim had presented her husband a boy, but by this time the Spanish authorities had got wind of the manner in which Rowland had obtained his riches, and he was forced to leave Havana, and most of his vast property at the same time, and sail clandestinely and under an assumed name for England. Here he took up his residence in an obscure street of the metropolis where after the expiration of two years, Clarice gave birth to a daughter, whilst relentless death hovered over the fair form of the mother, and soon after removed her gently from the sin and sorrows of a wicked world.

Soon after the decease of his wife, Rowland suddenly left England, but he returned again about a year previous to the commencement of our story, and managed, through sundry letters of recommendation which he himself had forged, to gain the command of the Gladiator.

Leaving the intervening events of his life to become elucidated in the further progress of our story, we will here put an end to our long but important digression and return again to the unravelling of its main thread, by transporting the attention of our readers once more to the deck of Rowland's noble ship.

Here every one was at his station, every thing in its right place, and every soul on board the Gladiator was almost breathlessly watching the near approach of the piratical brig, as, with the horrid black flag flying from her main royal truck, she came sailing majestically down upon the ship, and it was expected by the crew of the latter that an instant combat between the two vessels was inevitable.

Judge then, kind reader, of their supreme astonishment and indignation when they heard the captain, (as the brig fired a couple of blank cartridges across his bows as a signal for him to surrender,) give the following order:

'Mr. Howe, haul down the colors! immediately.'

Instead of jumping immediately, as was generally his wont to obey Rowland's orders, the first lieutenant stood perfectly still, regarding the captain with a puzzled and undecided manner, as much as to ask if he had rightly understood the purport of his superior's words.

'Haul down the colors!' exclaimed the captain the second time, and as he spoke in a stern, loud tone of voice, which precluded all misunderstanding, the first lieutenant, for the first time ventured an answer in the following words:

'Captain Rowland, I must own that I am at a loss to perceive the necessity of hauling down our colors, when we have twice the number of guns possessed by the brig, which would, in case of a conflict, enable us easily to save the ship as well as our own lives.'

'I believe this ship is under my command and not yours, Mr. Howe,' replied Rowland, coolly, 'and I alone am responsible for her safety. Again, sir, I order you to haul down the colors.'

There was something in the cold, calm, passionless manner of Rowland, which awed the lieutenant into compliance, notwithstanding he was naturally a brave man, and he therefore walked forward and repeated to one of the men the captain's order, which a moment afterwards was sullenly obeyed, then a shout of exultation rose up from the crew of the piratical brig, whilst a gun was fired in triumph as her commander prepared to board the ship which had been so ingloriously placed without a struggle within his grasp.

By the time the boat was lowered from the brig, she had ranged up so near the side of the ship, as rendered easy to distinguish from the deck of each the countenances of those on board the other, and as the Earl of Derwentwater and Arthur Huntington, (who had boarded the ship almost unperceived at the time of her surrender,) gazed upon the dark swarthy forms which crowded the sides of the brig, the former suddenly exclaimed—

'Gracious Heaven, Arthur,—yonder on that strange vessel's deck stands Ellen Armstrong with that villain who calls himself the Pirate of the Roanoke close by her side.'

'It cannot be,—where is she?' exclaimed Arthur, involuntarily. 'Thank God, I see her,' he exclaimed, after gazing a moment uponthe brig's deck. Another minute elapsed and he was in the water, before any one could anticipate, much less prevent his movements, making towards the piratical brig, which, (as he was an excellent swimmer,) he managed to reach, and he soon found himself by the side of sweet Ellen Armstrong whom he thus addressed:

'Good God! Ellen, how came you here!'

'Arthur!' exclaimed Ellen, faintly,—but she said no more, though Blackbeard answered his query as follows:

'What rashness, young man, caused you to come here?'

'I have come here,' replied Arthur, 'with all the calmness of desperation, to rescue this young lady or die in the attempt.'

'What an uncommonly heroic young gentleman you must be,' responded Blackbeard, satirically, 'to attempt unarmed, and single-handed, the rescue of a young girl from the midst of a hundred armed men. You must certainly be either moon-struck or love-cracked.'

'And you must be a cold-blooded, heartless villain,' exclaimed Arthur, irritated beyond endurance at the scorching irony of the pirate's tone.

'Those are words, young man, which only your life-blood can atone for,' exclaimed the pirate, as he drew a pistol from his belt, and presented it to the young man's breast. 'Die, upstart, die!'

'Rather let me die,' exclaimed sweet Ellen Armstrong, as, quicker than thought, she sprang between the murderous weapon and Arthur's person.

The pirate fired, but the ball did not take effect, and was about to present his second pistol, when he suddenly stopped, and thus addressed a portion of his comrades, who had in meantime gathered round this strange scene.

'Some of you take these two fools below, and confine them in separate apartments until I can attend to the hanging of them.'

Immediately upon the reception of this order, Ellen was dragged by the rough hands of two piratical officers into the brig's cabin, where she was locked up in a small state room, whilst Arthur Huntington, was heavily ironed and confined in the steerage. As the fair Ellen sat in her narrow prison, brooding in mute despair over the horrid scenes she had just passed through, she covered her face with her hands and faintly murmured,

'If Arthur dies, I cannot survive him.'

Henry Huntington and Pat O'Leary, the Earl's Servant, start upon An Exploring Expedition—Its Strange and Sudden Termination at the Pirates' Cavern.

With a love of adventure, which no sense of anticipated or real danger could restrain, glowing upon his mind, and beaming forth from his handsome eyes, did Henry Huntington, upon his first landing upon the island, declare to his companions that he intended to pass the day in exploring its beautiful though limited dimensions, and when hunting for curious sea-shells and other marine curiosities, wherewith to enrich a sort of miniature museum which he had commenced some years before in merry England.

'Is that your real intention, Henry, or are you joking,' asked the earl, as the young man finished speaking.

'I certainly intend, sir, to spend the time allotted to me here, in doing as I have said,' replied Henry.

'Then it is my opinion that you will have a tiresome time of it,' said the earl.

'With all deference to your better judgment, my lord, I anticipate a far different result.'

'Well, then, I wish you all prosperity in your adventurous undertaking,' replied the earl, 'but be careful to keep within sight of the ship.'

'I shall undoubtedly be very careful about that, sir, for although I own that I am an enthusiastic lover of romantic adventures, I do not by any means, aspire to the envious celebrity of being left alone, in all my glory, upon a desolate island. But who amongst all the party is hardy enough to volunteer to go with me. Will you, Arthur?'

'Why, what a selfish fellow you have got to be, Henry,' said Mary Hamilton, 'to start on a wild goose chase yourself, and then ask the only other young gentleman of the party to accompany you.'

'That would be ungallant, without dispute,' chimed in 'sweet' Ellen Armstrong.

'Upon a second thought, I am compelled to believe it would,' replied Henry. 'But to settle the matter, by Lord Armstrong's leave, I will take his servant Patrick with me.'

'Do you hear that, Patrick,' asked the earl?

'Indade, sir, and I do,' replied Mr. Patrick O'Leary, with the trueHibernian accent. 'And its to the end of the world that I would follow swate master Henry, intirely.'

'Well, Patrick, let us take a start now, then,' said Henry.

'Stop a bit, if ye plase, master Henry, till I ask yer honor a bit of a question. Is there any wild bastes on this elligant little island?'

'Not that I know of. But what made you think of that, Patrick?'

'Faith, an it was just this, then, your honor. Ould Father McGrave, rest to his sowl, who was the parish praste at Bully Bannon, when I was a wee bit spalpeen of a boy, used to tell me that in 'forrin' places like this, where the sun was as hot as purgatory all the year round, there was a great plinty of tigers and illifonts, [meaning probably—elephants,] and sarpints, and all other kinds of savage bastes. Now I jest thought, master Henry, if that was the case here, I would just cut a couple of "shillalahs," one for each of us, off of yonder tree, as they might work in handy in case of accidint.'

'Although there is no danger of our being attacked by wild bastes, as you call them,' replied Henry, smiling at the simplicity of the honest Patlander, 'still, the shillalahs may not come amiss, so make haste and cut them, and then we will set out upon our journey,'

Having thus gained Huntington's permission, Pat O'Leary lost no time in repairing to the tree which he has before mentioned, where he selected two of its branches, which he thought suitable to his purposes, he quickly cut them from their parent trunk with his jacknife, and returned with them to Henry, who chose the shortest one of the two, and then said:—

'Now, Patrick, as they have all gone off and left this spot, it is time for us to follow their example.'

'Fast as yer honor plases,' replied Patrick, and so saying, he immediately followed Henry, who had advanced some paces ahead of him, and they then proceeded both together, on their intended expedition.

They walked on for some moments in silence, which, however, was broken by Henry, who thus addressed his companion,—

'Well, Patrick, what do you think of this beautiful spot?'

'Och, yer honor, and I think its just the most illigant little spot in the world, where the pratees, [meaning, possibly, the oranges and lemons,] grow on the trees, and where one never sees a snake, nor a sarpint at all, at all. Sure, and I think that the blessed Saint Patrick must have stopped at this place in the course of his travels, and killed all the snakes, and the frogs, and the vipers, bad luck to them, as he did in ould Ireland.'

'But how should you like to live here altogether?' asked Henry.

'Live, is it, master Henry? Sure, an I had rather live here than any place in the wide world, besides barrin my own blessed ould Ireland.'

'What, alone?' again asked Huntington.

'By the powers, sir, no, not a bit of it,' replied the Patlander. 'The devil a bit would Pat O'Leary wish to live alone in any place, bat I was just thinking, master Henry, that if you and Miss Hamilton, bless the light of her blessed black eyes, would only consint to be married, and live upon this pretty, convanient little island, what a nate, clane, comfortable serving man you might have in Patrick O'Leary.'

Not knowing exactly, in what way to reply to Patrick's last speech, Henry remained for the time silent, and they thus proceeded on their journey, ascending first to the top of one hill, then after passing through a fertile and beautiful valley, ascending another, until at last they got completely tired. As they reached the second valley, Henry spoke as follows:

'I think we had better rest here awhile, Patrick.'

'Just as you plase, sir,' answered his companion, 'rest or go on, it's all one to Paddy O'Leary.'

'Then I guess we will stop here,' said Henry.

So saying, he seated himself on the luxuriant green grass, beneath a fragrant orange tree, and Patrick was about to follow his example, when the sudden appearance of three men on the summit of an adjacent eminence, greeted the curious gaze which he cast around, and caused him to exclaim:

'By the powers of mud and blarney, master Henry, if there is no four legged bastes upon this illigant bit of an island, there's plenty of two legged ones.'

'What do you mean,' exclaimed Henry, starting to his feet.

'What do I mane? An sure, and what shall I mane, yer honor, except just what I said? Just look at the top of that young mountain yonder, and you will see two ugly looking two legged bastes, headed by a third, who looks for all the world like the horrid baste with 'sivin heads and ten horns,' that Father McGrave used to tell us was stabled in purgatory, and ridden by the very ould divil himself.'

Turning his eyes in the direction intimated, Henry immediately discovered the three strong men to whom Patrick had alluded, and they seemed at the same time to have seen him, for soon afterwards he observed that they were descending the hill, and walking swiftly towards the place where he and his servant were standing.

'By the boys of Bulskerry, them divils are all armed, every mother's son of them,' exclaimed O'Leary, as the strangers gained a near approach to them.

'So they are, sure enough,' answered Henry. 'But what shall we do, Pat, run away, or stop and see what they want of us?'

'It would surely be the asiest and most agreeable for both of us, to show them a light pair of heels, or, in yer honor's own words, to run away, that is, if so be that we had any where to run to,—but as we haven't, why, the best thing we can be after doing, is to—to do the best we can,—by staying where we am.'

Having arrived at this very logical, and important conclusion, our honest Hibernian flourished his shillalah above his head, but the next moment it was snatched from his grasp by Blackbeard, who cast it away to a considerable distance.

'Bad luck to yer, for a murthering blackguard,' exclaimed Pat, as nothing daunted, he closed in with the pirate, and with his superior strength, would have easily crushed him to the earth, had not one of his (Blackbeard's) comrades struck poor Pat a violent blow on the head with the butt of his pistol, which caused him to let go his hold, and as he afterwards averred, 'knocked the life from his head down to the inds of his toes.'

Whilst this curious transaction was in progress, Henry Huntington was busily engaged in parrying the thrusts which were aimed at him by the third pirate, with his stout walking stick, (which might, perhaps, be more properly termed a heavy club,) and so lustily did he lay about him, that he soon managed to knock his adversary down, through the agency of a blow, (which, as it was afterwards discovered, fractured the villain's skull,) when Blackbeard and the other man, who had just got clear of Pat, fell suddenly upon Henry Huntington, and soon disarmed him.

This having been accomplished, Blackbeard addressed him as follows:

'Dost thou know, rash and fool-hardy man, that you have incurred death, by daring to resist my authority, and wounding one of my comrades?

'Though I know nothing either of you or your authority, or your comrades, I do know, that as far forth as I could, I have done my duty.'

'And I still have mine to do,' answered Blackbeard. 'Knowest thou that Mary Hamilton is in my power?'

'What,' exclaimed Henry, wildly, 'do I hear aright? Is my affianced in the power of—'

'If Mary Hamilton is your affianced wife, she is certainly in the power of Blackbeard, the far-famed pirate of the Roanoke.'

'God help her then,' exclaimed Henry, hardly knowing what he said.

'Amen,' exclaimed the pirate, in a tone of cruel mockery.

'If it is true, what you have told me,' said Henry, earnestly, 'only let her go, free her, Mary Hamilton, from your cruel grasp, and then you may kill, torture, do anything with my poor body that you will.'

'I shall dispose of her, and you too, just as I please,' answered Blackbeard, 'but I shall not stop longer here to bandy words with you.'

As he finished speaking, the pirate raised his silver call to his lips, and as its loud clear whistle rung out upon the still air, three more desperadoes appeared suddenly upon the scene of action, whom Blackbeard thus addressed:

'Comrades, convey this young sprig of nobility,' pointing to Henry, 'and that prostrate Irishman,' pointing to Patrick, (who was just beginning to recover from the blow which had stunned him,) 'to the cavern, under the palace, where you will see that they are closely confined.'

So saying, Blackbeard turned quickly away, and soon disappeared through the adjoining forest.

The cavern to which the pirate had alluded in his last speech, as being under the 'palace,' was a large, subterranean appartment, which was generally used by the bucaniers as a place of storage for their ill gotten plunder. This cavern had had many, and various ways of entrance, the principal one of which, was near the outside of the palace, and was opened by removing a broad, flat stone, which had been ingeniously set upright in a small banking, apparently of earth, which surrounded this singular abode.

We might as well say here, as anywhere, that we are well aware that the representation given by us of the pirate's palace and cavern, will be looked upon by many as unnatural and improbable, but when they consider that the bucaniers of that period were very numerous, and consisted of men of almost every variety of genius, which must, even in its times of relaxation, be employed about something, they will cease, perhaps, to wonder that the ingenuity of such men should be exerted in building convenient, and even elegant structures for their accommodation, and their extensive means of enriching them with ornaments the most costly, with which the numerous Indiamen they captured were freighted, will not be farther questioned.

But to return to our story.

Finding himself surrounded by four or five armed and desperate men, Huntington, concluding that resistance would be in vain, signified his readiness to follow them, whereupon he was led by two of their number to the cavern above alluded to, whilst the remaining pirates bestowed their attention upon poor Patrick O'Leary, whom, (as he had not yet recovered his powers of locomotion,) they lifted upon their shoulders and bore him away after his master, much in the same manner as they would have carried a slaughtered beast.

Having arrived with their prisoners at the place assigned for their confinement, the pirates conversed amongst themselves, as follows:

'I say, Poplin,' exclaimed one who seemed to be a kind of petty officer, 'what do you suppose our captain intends to do with these two bear cubs that we have here?'

'I cannot say, Mr. Pepper,' replied the person to whom that worthy had spoken, 'what he will do with that red-headed son of a mushroom, that lays rolled up there yonder, like a bundle of half dead lobsters, but as for the other one, he, you know, killed Pedro, and I heard the captain say that he would be hanged.'

'Then of course he will be, so that settles that affair,' replied Mr. Pepper, very coolly. 'But what do you suppose, Poplin, he is going to do with that fine lady, that he's got up overhead there?'

'Which one do you mean? He's got two of them,' said Poplin.

'Ah, yes, so he has, I recollect now. I mean both,' said Pepper.

'I cannot tell only about the youngest one,' replied Poplin, 'whom the captain is going to take on board the brig.'

'What, has the pretty little craft arrived?' asked Pepper.

'She has,' rejoined the other.

'Then its all over with the Indiaman.'

'Of course it is,' replied Poplin, significantly.

'But the Indiaman you know,' suggested Pepper, 'carried double the number of guns that the brig does.'

'She carries a Captain Rowland also,' said Poplin, drily.

'Ah, I understand it all now,' said Pepper, 'so let us confine the prisoners, and then go up and see the fun.'

So saying, a few moments afterwards, Pepper and his companions departed, leaving Henry Huntington and Pat to their own reflections.

What these reflections were, we shall leave for the present to the imagination of our readers, and resume in our next chapter the further adventures of Blackbeard, Arthur Huntington, and sweet Ellen Armstrong.

Interview between Blackbeard and Ellen—Attempted Murder of the latter. Interference of Elvira. Blackbeard's Departure. Elvira's History. The Escape.

After having ordered her close alongside the East Indiaman, Blackbeard immediately descended to the place where sweet Ellen Armstrong was confined as a prisoner, and addressed its occupant, in the following manner,

'So Miss Armstrong, you acted the heroine to perfection, this afternoon.'

A look of utter loathing and contempt, being the only answer which the fair Ellen deigned to bestow on the pirate's words, he continued:

'You must certainly be mad, my lovely lily of the valley, to look so scornfully upon me, who at present holds in his hand the power of thy life or death.'

'As I am well assured that you will use the awful power you speak, to put a speedy end to my wretched existence,' replied Ellen, 'I must beg of you, instantly to retire, and thus rid me of your hateful presence.'

'Stop, stop, my pretty Miss,' exclaimed Blackbeard, 'not quite so fast, if you please. In the first place you must learn, that I have at present no intention of taking your life, but on the contrary, I intend to make you my wife, as soon as circumstances will permit.'

'Pirate, fiend, villain,' exclaimed Ellen, starting up from her seat and confronting Blackbeard, with all the majesty of injured innocence, 'learn, that rather than become the wife of a desperate robber like thyself, Ellen Armstrong will die, die by her own hand, and—'

'Ha, ha ha, there you go into heroics again,' interrupted the pirate, in a tone of scornful irony, 'but I will soon find a way to bring you back to your senses. Now, listen,' he continued, after a moment's pause, and in a tone of voice changed to stern severity, 'listen I say, to my words, and mark them well. From the curious scenes which transpired awile ago on the deck of this vessel, in which you chose to act a prominent part, I could draw but one inference, and that was, that you was deeply in love with Arthur Huntington, and now I would ask of you, if this inference is correct.'

'Had you any right to put such a question to me, I should not hesitate to answer it,' replied Ellen, who by this time had attained a sort of desperate courage which enabled her to bear up under the unaccountable horrors of her situation.

'If I have not a right, you will now perceive that I have the might to compel you to answer,' exclaimed Blackbeard, who having become by this time, thoroughly infuriated, drew a poniard from his belt, and advancing, towards Ellen, who sunk pale and terrified upon her knee, at his approach, he continued:

'It is far from my wish, Miss Armstrong, to harm even a hair of your head; but you must, (and mark me, I speak not unmeaningly,) you must, I repeat, answer my question, fairly, and without equivocation. Do you love Arthur Huntington?'

Ellen shuddered, and averted her head, but answered not. Finding his fair prisoner was not disposed to reply, Blackbeard, exclaimed with a horrid oath,

'I tell you, girl, that the pirate of the Roanoke, is not to be tampered with. Again, and for the last time, I command you to answer my question. Will you do so?'

'No,' replied Ellen firmly, 'I will not.'

'Then your blood be upon your head!' exclaimed the pirate, as springing suddenly forward, he inflicted a severe wound upon the person of sweet Ellen Armstrong, with his poniard, which caused her to fall fainting and bleeding upon the floor of the cabin.

'My God, what have I done,' muttered Blackbeard, as he gazed upon his prisoner's prostrate form.

'Murdered your sister!' exclaimed a shrill female voice, which emanated from a person who had entered the cabin unperceived, just after Ellen was wounded.

'Ha, who is that, that speaks of murder!' exclaimed the Pirate involuntarily.

'It is your mother, Elvira, who accuses you of having murdered that beautiful girl, who now lays gasping at your feet,' replied the strange female, who although she was far advanced in years, beyond the prime of life, still possessed a tall and commanding form, together with features, which, though they were somewhat wrinkled and withered, had once been pre-eminently fair and beautiful.

'Avaunt! hag,' exclaimed Blackbeard, as Elvira ceased speaking, 'begone I say, and if ever thou darest to call thyself, my mother, in my hearing, I will stab you to the very heart.'

'Am I not thy father's wife, Herbert?' replied the female.

'You say so, and it may be so,' rejoined Blackbeard, 'but at any rate you are only a social one.'

'If even that is allowed,' answered Elvira, 'you must own that it legally puts me in your mother's place.'

'By the bones of Captain Kid, it sounds well and appropriate for you, to talk about legality,' replied Blackbeard, ironically, 'you, who hast been born and bred amongst those, who acknowledge no laws, except those of their own making. Go to, you're an idiot.'

'But I am not a murderess,' replied Elvira.

'That is more than I could swear for,' said Blackbeard.

'At least I never killed my sister,' rejoined Elvira.

'What do you mean to insinuate by that?' asked the Pirate as his muscular frame trembled with a sort of indefinable emotion.

'I mean,' replied Elvira earnestly, 'not only to insinuate, but to solemnly assert, that, that unfortunate girl, who now lies bleeding before your eyes, is your only sister.'

'What!' exclaimed Blackbeard, driven by these singular words almost to frenzy, 'Witch of Bedlam, thou liest.'

A low, faint moan, here escaped from the lips of the wounded girl, which caused Elvira, thus to address the pirate:

'Say no more at present, Herbert, I entreat you, but leave the cabin, whilst I endeavor to restore this young creature to consciousness.'

'You asserted just now, that this girl was my only sister,' replied Blackbeard, 'and before I depart I must have an explanation of your words.'

'For the love of Heaven, Herbert,' said Elvira, 'leave me alone with this maiden for the present, and to-morrow I will explain everything.'

'Upon that consideration, I will go,' avowed the pirate, 'and after which you will carefully examine her wound, and if it is likely to prove fatal, beware how you lose any time in making me aware of the fact.'

So saying, and without awaiting Elvira's reply, Blackbeard immediately left the cabin.

'Lower away the boat there,' thundered forth the pirate, as he gained the brig's quarter deck. A score or two men promptly executed this order, the boat was soon manned; Blackbeard assumed his station in the stern sheets, and was soon pulled along side of the Gladiator, whose deck he quickly reached, where he earnestly inquired of the officer in charge, for Captain Rowland.

'He went ashore, sir,' replied the man to whom he had applied, 'about one hour ago, and left orders for you to follow him at your earliest convenience.'

Upon hearing this, Blackbeard without stopping to reply, hastily re-entered his boat, and ordered his coxswain to steer directly for the shore, which he soon reached, and having landed, made the best of his way to the palace, where we will for the present leave him, whilst we look further after the fortunes of our heroine.

No sooner had the pirate, taken his departure from the cabin, than the strange female hastened to the assistance of the wounded girl, whom she supported in her arms, and then conducted her into a small but neatly furnished state-room, which was Elvira's own apartment, where she had partly overheard the altercation which took place, as before related, between Blackbeard and Ellen, and from which she had noiselessly and unperceived entered the main cabin just after our unfortunate heroine had fallen to the floor. Here Elvira gently laid her fair charge upon her own soft couch, and proceeded immediately to examine her wound, which, although it had bled copiously, was but slight, then, after carefully dressing it, this strange woman, by the aid of appropriate restoratives soon succeeded in restoring 'sweet' Ellen Armstrong once more to consciousness.

As a confused sense of her situation began to dawn upon her mind, our heroine, after casting a wild glance around the state-room, addressed Elvira as follows:

'Good woman, for the love of Heaven, tell me where I am, and into whose hands I have fallen?'

'You are at present on board of a piratical vessel called the Fury, and in the hands of a merciless and cruel set of black-hearted villains.'

'And you,' exclaimed Ellen, hardly knowing what she said, 'how came you, a woman, to be in this horrid place?'

'That is a question,' replied Elvira 'much easier for you to ask, than it will be for me to answer, but, as some of the events connected with the sad history of my presence here, may be found to be somewhat connected with your present mysterious situation, I will lose no time in making you acquainted with the story of my past life, that is, if you think you possess strength enough to listen to the recital, which as it is to me a painful theme, I shall make as brief as possible.'

A strange and unaccountable interest in the words of the dejected being who stood before her, having taken possession of the sympathizing mind of our heroine, she signified to Elvira, that she felt strong enough to listen to any thing which might serve to explain the horrible mystery connected with her sudden captivity, and the subsequent events attendant upon it.

As Ellen finished speaking, Elvira, commenced her narration as follows:

'I was born in Lincoln, near fifty years ago. My parents were poor, but respectable trades-people, who, had they been permitted to live, until I, their only child, had reached the age of womanhood, mighthave, by religious counsel and strict government checked, if not wholly obliterated the reckless propensities of my passionate temper and wild, wayward disposition. But before my years had numbered ten, my parents both died within a few weeks of each other, leaving me to the care of a tyrannical old aunt, who I soon afterwards found, managed to hide, under an artful affection of religion and prudery, a base malignant and sensual character. I was immediately sent by my aunt to the parish-school, where, being naturally tractable and apt to learn I soon acquired the rudiments of a good education, and besides, I learnt also to become an expert needle-woman. No sooner did my aunt find that I was mistress of this latter accomplishment, than she took me at once from school, and compelled me to toil day and night at my needle, refusing me at the same time all necessary rest and recreation.

'Young and high-spirited as I then was, I found it impossible to bear such brutal treatment, and one day when I was about fourteen years of age, in a fit of anger and despair, I left the home of my cruel aunt, and found myself a wretched wanderer in the streets of London, without money, home, or friends. Still I wandered on, not realizing the horror of my situation, till the shades of evening began to cover the city, and the harsh knawings of cruel hunger, began inexorably to crave their natural satisfaction. Then it was that I felt myself compelled to look around for some place of shelter, but could find none, and would have returned again to my cruel aunt, but alas, all my efforts to find her habitation proved utterly fruitless, and having by this time reached the banks of the Thames, I plunged without a moment's hesitation, into its dark waters, resolving to end at once a life which promised nothing to its possessor, but wretchedness and wo. But my fatal resolution was frustrated by a man, who, unperceived had for some time previous watched my wild and desperate course, and who jumped into the water as I a second time rose to its surface, caught me by the arm, and held me tightly with one hand, whilst with the other he swam toward a small vessel, which, being but a short distance off, he managed to reach in safety.

'Having received on board this vessel every attention which the greatest delicacy and kindness could dictate, I soon became impressed with a strong desire to become acquainted, with the character and designs of the person who had so disinterestedly preserved my life. It so happened that during a short illness which was occasioned by the cold bath I had taken in the Thames, I was assiduously attended by a female, who, as I afterwards learnt, was the wife of one of the officers of the vessel. To this woman who was very kind and attentive to my wants, I applied for the gratification of my curiosity concerning my preserver, upon which she informed me that he was a young Spaniard of good family, who commanded the vessel in which we were then situated.

'This was all I could gather from her, but a day or two afterwards I had perfectly recovered so that I could verbally thank the generous man who had saved my life, to his face. After havinglistened with modest though marked attention to my warm protestations of gratitude, Don Almanzor, (for such was his name,) begged me to relate to him the untoward events which had driven me to desperation and almost death.

'In accordance with his request, I gave him a brief history of my previous life, after which in view as he said, of my helpless and desolate condition, he offered to take me to his home in Cuba, where he informed me I should become an inmate of his father's family, he taking upon himself to act towards me, in every respect, the part of a friend and generous brother.

'With redoubled expressions of sincere gratitude and respect, I eagerly consented to abide by Almanzor's generous offer, and a few days afterward, the vessel in which I had so strangely become a passenger, sailed for Havana, where she arrived after a pleasant passage of three weeks.

'During the voyage, Almanzor treated me with the most delicate attention and respect, and as he was young, handsome, and unmarried, you will not be surprised when I inform you, that long before its termination, I became deeply and fervently attached to him. However, I resolved to keep my passion a secret within my own bosom, until I should know whether my affection would be reciprocated by its object, and in the mean time, I became regularly domesticated in the family of Don Almanzor, which consisted of his father, who was a rich old Spanish slave-dealer, his mother, and himself. The old people treated me in all respects, as though I had been their only daughter, and for two years I lived with them in the enjoyment of a pure and tranquil happiness, which, at the expiration of that time, was enhanced beyond measure, by an honorable offer on the part of Almanzor, of his hand and heart. As might naturally be supposed, I readily accepted an offer which agreed so well with my own inclinations, and shortly afterwards we were married, and after two more years of increased felicity had passed, I became the mother of a lovely daughter.

'My husband was at this time absent on a trading voyage, and the vessel that he was in having encountered a severe hurricane, was stranded, and every soul on board of her found a watery grave.

'This dreadful news was brought to me by Captain Rowland, who visited the island at that time, in the capacity of master of an English brig, and need I say that the horrid tidings almost drove me frantic.

'Then the insiduous tempter came, and offered me his hand, which I accepted, and thus I became what you see me now, Rowland's wife.'

'And who is this Captain Rowland?' asked Ellen, eagerly.

'He is a noted pirate,' replied Elvira.

'Did you know that when you married him?'

'I did not, if I had, sooner would I have yielded my life than united my fortune, desperate as it was, with his. When I discovered his true character, I was his wife, on board of his vessel, and in his power, with no avenue through which I could escape, and for the sake of my child, I was forced to humble myself, and submit to his caprices.'

'Your situation must have been terrible beyond expression,' ejaculated Ellen, who had become deeply interested in the story of the unfortunate woman.

'God knows that it was so,' answered Elvira. 'The discovery of his deception came upon me suddenly, like a thunderbolt from the clouds of heaven, and I upbraided him for it in the bitterness of my heart, and he answered my reproaches at first with scornful laughter, and afterwards with a relation of the history of his past life, during which, to my utter astonishment and surprise, I learnt that he had been once before married, but that his wife had recently died, leaving two children, a son who was at that time in the vessel with his father, and an infant daughter, concerning whom, I could only then learn from Rowland, that she had been left in London, in the hands of such persons as would take good care of her.

'It was in vain after this, that I begged my cruel husband to return me and my child to Havana, he was utterly deaf to all my entreaties, although about two months after our embarcation he landed me on this desolate, but beautiful island, where, in his hours of leisure, he had with the assistance of his companions, erected and furnished with his rich but ill gotten spoils, that building which has been signified by the name of the Pirate's Palace.'

'That must be the horrid place,' exclaimed Ellen, 'which I saw this morning, and in which I fear Mary Hamilton is—is—'

'Now confined,' interrupted Elvira.

'Is it not worse than that,' exclaimed Ellen, eagerly, 'has she not met with a cruel death?'

'Oh no, that is no part of the purpose of those who have detained her,' answered Elvira.

'Do you know their true purpose, then,' asked Ellen, 'relative to her, myself, and the rest of the prisoners?'

'With regard to Miss Hamilton,' replied Elvira, 'Rowland's purpose is to force her into a union with his son.'

'And who may his son be?' again inquired Ellen.

'No other,' answered Elvira, impressively, 'but Herbert Rowland otherwise called Blackbeard, the famous pirate of the Roanoke, who is besides your only brother.'

'And Captain Rowland?'

'Is your father.'

'God of Heaven! can it be possible?' exclaimed the fair Ellen.

'It is no less possible than true,' replied Elvira.

'Then, in Heaven's name, let us free Arthur from his fetters,' exclaimed Ellen, 'and all of us escape through the cabin window into the boat, that has, I perceive, been left astern.'

Upon hearing this, Elvira immediately left the cabin, but, to Ellen's greater joy, she shortly after returned, followed by Arthur Huntington, who assisted the females into the boat, after which he entered it himself and succeeded in getting, unperceived, out of sight of the brig, upon the bosom of the wide ocean.

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