"Enter, mortal, if thou bearPriest nor Bible, cross nor prayer!"
With his drawn sword held firmly in his grasp, he opened the door. Instantly the place was filled with a blue flame, by the light of which the various supernatural paraphernalia of the sorceress's abode were made visible with the most appalling distinctness, while sounds infernal and terrific assailed his ears. He stood a moment filled with alarm, and overpowered by what he saw and heard. The sorceress, clothed in a garment apparently of flame, covered with strange and unearthly figures, her features wrought up to a supernatural degree of excitement and wild enthusiasm, stood before the caldron in a commanding attitude, her hair dishevelled, her long white wand held towards the intruder, and every sinew of her arms and neck distinctly brought into light. A serpent was bound about her temples, and one was entwined around each of her naked arms, while a fourth encircled her waist. Beside her stood a spindle, with a crimson thread upon it. She fixed her eyes on his with an unearthly expression as she extended her wand towards him, and, in a voice that became a priestess of rites so unholy as she performed, addressed him:
"Welcome, mortal! I have waited for thee. Kneel."
"Wherefore?" he asked, as if addressing a supernatural being, his imagination affected by the circumstances and situation in which he was placed, and scarcely recognising, in the fearful appearance and aspect of the sorceress, her whom he had seen and conversed with but a few hours before. "Wherefore should I kneel?"
"To swear."
"The oath?"
"To assume the title of Lester and wed the heiress of Bellamont."
"I have sworn it without thy aid. I have seen her."
"And she has scorned thee."
"She has. Foul witch, thou didst betray me to her!"
"Ha, ha! Thou hast learned this of her." She laughed maliciously. "I told her who thou wert, that she might scorn thee."
"Fiends! Dost thou not wish me to marry her?"
"Yes; but only against her will."
"Otherwise she will never. And, by the cross! I will not bear the haughty scorn with which she has received me. Witch, I am ready to take the oath; but, if I take it, thou shalt give me thy aid in avenging myself.
"On her!"
"Yes, but through her lover."
"Has she a lover?" asked the sorceress, with surprise.
"Did not thy art teach thee this?"
"Who?" she demanded, without replying to his question.
"A certain Captain Fitzroy."
"He who commanded the ship that brought them hither. Where were my wits I did not suspect as much?" she added to herself.
"Dost know him?"
"I have seen him on his deck as I passed in my skiff. He sailed instantly in pursuit of you, or I should have discovered something of this new love. She confessed it?"
"Without hesitation. I have sworn to seek him and cross blades with him."
"First repeat the oath thou hast come hither to take."
"If thou wilt exert all thy skill and art to give me success in my revenge, I will take it."
"Swear."
"Nay. I am told thou hast, as do all of thy unholy craft, an amulet which, worn on the bosom, will give him who for the time wears it a charmed life, and cause him to prosper in all that he undertakes. This amulet I ask of thee."
"First lay thy right hand upon the head of the serpent that binds my waist, and thy left hand upon thy heart, and, kneeling, swear to obey me in resuming thy earldom and thy wooing of Catharine of Bellamont, and it shall be thine."
He knelt, and with solemnity took the oath, repeating each word after her in an audible tone.
"This you promise to do or your soul forfeit."
"This I promise to do or my soul forfeit."
"Or thy soul forfeit!" repeated, from some unknown quarter, a sepulchral voice, that made him start to his feet with mingled surprise and alarm.
"Woman, what hast thou caused me to do?" he asked, with superstitious dread.
"No evil, so thou break not thy oath."
"So thou break not thy oath!" repeated the same voice, close to his ears.
"Sorceress, I will not break my oath," he said, after the surprise at this second interruption hadsubsided; "but until I have first crossed weapons with this rival lover, I approach her no more. He has gone to seek me, therefore should I meet him. But that he should dare to love where Robert Lester has loved, is ample reason why we should meet. Till I find him, be he above the sea, I neither assume the name of Lester nor see the haughty heiress of Bellamont. So give me success in this, and, after, thy wishes shall be fulfilled to the letter."
"Darest thou delay?" she said, striding up to him and taking him by the breast, while her eyes flashed vindictive fire.
"Thou hast not the whole control over my will, Elpsy. I fear and respect thy power, but I obey it and thee only so far as it chimes with my own ends. I have yielded to thee: now yield to me! Thy wishes, whatever may have prompted them, shall soon enough be realized. If thou wilt give me the amulet, and put thy arts to work and send me prosperous winds, I will, ere the month end, hold this Fitzroy my prisoner; and then, by the cross! in my very cabin shall he be spectator of my bridal. If in a month I do not meet him, I will then do thy pleasure."
The sorceress gradually released her grasp as he continued, and, when he had ended, said,
"'Tis well. Go."
"The amulet?"
"Nay. Thou shalt not have it," she said, firmly.
"By the rood! if thou give it not to me, I will wring thy shrivelled neck for thee," he cried, with sudden impetuosity.
"Lay but the tip o' your least finger upon me, Robert Kyd, that moment shall thy arm be palsied to its shoulder, and thy strength leave thy body, till the infant an hour old shall master thee!"
She stepped back as she spoke, and extended her wand towards him with a menacing gesture.
"Nay, nay, fearful woman," he cried, betraying some alarm at her words and threatening attitude, "I meant not to anger thee. Wilt give the amulet? I cannot go forth on this mission of revenge without it. I know its mysterious and wonderful power, and must avail myself of it on this occasion. Thou shalt have it after."
The sorceress looked troubled at his eager anxiety to possess the mystic seal, and at length said, in a solemn tone of voice, and with a manner calculated to have its effect on an imagination the least tinged with superstition,
"Mortal, thou knowest not what thou seekest! If he who wears this on his breast fail in his last trial of its mystic power, he shall become the slayer of the mother who bore him!"
"What is this to me? I have no mother, sorceress."
"Ha! well, no, no! thou hast not!" she said, with a singular expression. "Yet such is the doom of him in whose hands it fails.Thoushalt not wear it!"
"I will. If I tear it from thee by violence!"
"'Twill then do thee no good. It must be placed around thy neck with solemn rites. Thou shalt have it," she said, suddenly, after a moment's thought, "for thy success is my success. The risk shall be run by me! Hast thou the nerve to go through the initiating rites?"
"I will stop at nothing. Give it me, with every hellish charm thou canst invent. Once my revenge accomplished, take it back."
"ButHe'll not give thee back the price thou payest for it."
"Ha! Well, be it so! I will not ask it. Mysoul is as well in the devil's keeping as in my own. The world beyond has for me neither hopes nor fears. My present aims accomplished, I care not for the bugbear future! In the name of the master whom thou servest, give me the amulet!"
"I obey," she said, with wild solemnity. "Slave, appear!"
She cast, as she spoke, a powder upon the flame, which shot up to the roof and filled the place with so dazzling a brilliancy that for an instant he was deprived of sight. The light sunk as suddenly as it had risen, and he saw before him a tall, skeleton-like figure, over whose face played an unearthly glare from the smouldering flame beneath the caldron. It was the slave Cusha. The pirate chief gazed on the hideous being with horror; his sword dropped from his grasp, and an exclamation in the shape of an exorcism escaped his lips. The sorceress witnessed his alarm with a triumphant smile; she then touched and turned her spindle, while the slave, obedient to her nod, kneeled and began to kindle the flame and stir the seething caldron.
The bucanier witnessed these preparations with curiosity not unmingled with dread, yet nevertheless determined to abide by the issue. All at once she began to chant: now in a low, deep voice, now in a high, shrill key, as her words required, the slave at intervals chiming in in a tone so deep and sepulchral that the startled bucanier could not believe that it was human, especially when his eyes rested on the hideous being from whom it proceeded, who grovelled on the earth at his feet.
Witch(to the wizard)."Kindle, kindle!"Both."To our tasks!"Witch(whirling the spindle)."Turn the spindle!Mortal asksA web of proofFrom charmed woof!"Wizard."The pledge, the pledge?"Witch."Body and soulTohiscontrol,The pledge, the pledge!"Wizard."The seal, the seal?"Witch."A bleeding lockOf the victim's hairGiven to earth, sea,Sky, and air,The seal, the seal!"
Witch(to the wizard)."Kindle, kindle!"
Both."To our tasks!"
Witch(whirling the spindle)."Turn the spindle!Mortal asksA web of proofFrom charmed woof!"
Wizard."The pledge, the pledge?"
Witch."Body and soulTohiscontrol,The pledge, the pledge!"
Wizard."The seal, the seal?"
Witch."A bleeding lockOf the victim's hairGiven to earth, sea,Sky, and air,The seal, the seal!"
As the sorceress chanted this she broke from the thread what she had wound off, and, approaching him, chanted,
"Kneel, mortal, kneel!And let me severThe pledge that makes theeHisfor ever!"
He kneeled before her with the obedient submission of a child. She then entwined her fingers in a long lock that grew above the left temple, and, drawing from her bosom a dagger, held it above his head and chanted,
"Dost thou believe, Robert Kyd, Robert Kyd,Nor earth nor air, water nor fire,Ball nor steel, nor mortal ire,My potent charmHave power to harmTill it fulfil its destiny?"
"I do."
"Dost thou believe, Robert Kyd, Robert Kyd,That within, without, body and soul,This amulet shall keep thee wholeFrom ball and steel,And mortal ill,Till thou fulfil thy destiny?"
"I do."
"Thus I take the seal and pledge,That, soul and body, thou engage,When thy master calls for thee,Ready, ready thou wilt be."
She severed the lock of hair from his temples as she ceased, and commenced dividing it into four equal parts. When she had done so she stepped backward, and, standing in the attitude of a priestess about to perform an idolatrous sacrifice, cast a lock into the air, chanting in the same wild manner,
"Prince of Air! take the pledge!"
As she ceased a gust of wind swept over the islet, as if, so it appeared to the imagination of the excited victim of the rites, acknowledging the sacrifice. She then cast a lock upon the ground and chanted,
"Prince of Earth! take the pledge!"
Instantly the ground on which he stood seemed to tremble; he heard a deep rumbling as if in caverns beneath; and the little island appeared to shake as if an earthquake had answered the appeal.
"Prince of Sea! take the pledge!"
She cast a third lock into the caldron as she repeated the line: the water boiled and hissed with a great noise, and the waves from the sea at the same time seemed to dash with a louder roar against the rocks below, and flung their spray with a heavy dash upon the roof. A fourth lock she cast into the flames, chanting,
"Prince of Fire! take the pledge!"
Instantly the place was illuminated as if with the most brilliant flashes of lightning, while the loudest thunder seemed to explode at his feet.
He started upright at this, for hitherto he had continued to kneel, overcome by what he was both a witness of and a trembling participator in, and with every sign of mortal wonder and dread, cried,
"Sorceress! avaunt! I will no more of this!"
"Peace, mortal, peace!Cease, mortal, cease!See no word by thee be spokenLest our magic charm be broken!"
As she chanted this reproof, she turned to the slave and continued in the same strain,
"Hast thou the murderous leadFrom the grave of the dead?"
"'Tis here," he said, prostrating himself, and giving to her, with divers mysterious ceremonies, a leaden bullet.
"Sought you the grave at midnight deep—Dug you down where dead men sleep—Search'd you—found you this charm'd ball—Did you this in silence all?"
"I did," answered the monster, prostrating himself.
"Slave, 'tis well.From fire and airWe now prepareOur mystic spell!"
She commenced walking around the caldron, drawing mystic figures on the ground and in the air. At the end of the first circuit she chanted, with slow and solemn gestures and growing energy,
"A brother's hand must have shaped the lead"—
at the end of the second, with more spirit, she sung,
"From a brother's hand the ball have sped."
The third time she chanted, in a still more excited manner, while she danced about the caldron,
"And a brother's heart the ball have bled."
As she ended her third sibylline circuit around the fire, she turned to the slave and said,
"Is such this lead?Swear by thy head!"
"It is," he responded, crossing his clasped hands across his forehead, and prostrating himself to the ground.
"'Tis well.
"Fire and water, perform thy task,A charmed life a mortal asks."
She now poured the water from the caldron, and, casting the lead into it, continued to dance round it, her gestures gradually increasing in wildness and energy, while in a low, monotonous tone she chanted unintelligibly certain mystic words, derived from the ancient Irish incantations. With folded arms the bucanier watched her aloof. At length she poured the melted lead into a shallow vessel containing water, when with a hissing noise it spread itself out into a shape resembling a human heart. Instantly the hut was darkened; loud unearthly noises filled the place; blue flames shot upward from the head of the sorceress and wizard slave, and, to the astonished bucanier, the apartment seemed to be filled with demoniac forms, flitting and gibbering about him.
Aghast and horror-struck, he cried aloud,
"Merciful Heaven, protect me!"
No sooner had the words gone from his mouth than the whole hellish confusion and uproar ceased, while, with an expression of fierce wrath, she cried,
"By that word thou hast taken from the charm one half its power. It will protect thee from ball, but not from steel; from earth and fire, but not from water and air; else, with this amulet against thy heart, thou wouldst bear a charmed life."
"'Tis nothing lost," he answered, recklessly.
"If ball can harm me not, a strong arm, quick eye, and faithful cutlass shall protect me against steel. Thou hast ensured me victory in love and revenge?"
"I have."
"More I ask not. Water can scarce drown one whose home is on the sea. Air I fear not!"
"Take heed, lest one day thou die not in it!"
"Ha! what mean you?"
"Nothing. Kneel while I hang this amulet about thy neck."
Attaching to it a strand of her own long hair, she suspended it about his neck as he kneeled before her, chanting,
"Mystic charm,Shield from harm!Winds and waves,Be his slaves!Mortal, naught can injure thee,Spread thy sail and sweep the sea!Vengeance now is in thy hand.Be thy foe on sea or land!If thy oath be kept not well,Ill befall thee with this spell!"
Instantly thunder seemed to shake the hut, which was filled with a sulphurous flame, while a repetition of the sounds he had before heard filled him with consternation; and, ere he could rise to his feet, he was struck to the earth by an unseen hand.
When he recovered himself the hut was deserted, and, save a ray of moonlight streaming through the roof, buried in total darkness. Confused, his senses overpowered, and his imagination excited by the scenes he had been so prominent and passive an actor in, he left the hut, the door of which was wide open, sought his boat, and roused his men, who, save Lawrence, had fallen asleep.
Giving his orders briefly, he put out from the Witch's Isle, and at midnight stood on the deck of his vessel. Shortly afterward he got underweigh, sailed down the Narrows and put out to sea. When the morning broke, great was the surprise and delight of the worthy people of New Amsterdam to find that the stranger had departed as silently and mysteriously as he had come; and many were the sage conjectures ventured the following evening by the worthies that gathered, as usual, about the stoop of the "Boat and Anchor," as to his character; and, sooth to say, they hit not far from the truth.
"She saw the noble in the peasant's garb,And dared to love—nay, more, she dared to braveThe world's dread frown, to follow him afarAmid the danger of the stormy wave.""He bore a charmed life. O'er earth and seaNo fiend so feared, no spirit dread as he."
"She saw the noble in the peasant's garb,And dared to love—nay, more, she dared to braveThe world's dread frown, to follow him afarAmid the danger of the stormy wave."
"He bore a charmed life. O'er earth and seaNo fiend so feared, no spirit dread as he."
An hour after sunrise the pirate vessel had gained an offing, and, under all her light canvass, wafted by a fresh wind from the northwest, was running the coast down, leaving the Highlands of Neversink on her starboard quarter. On her deck stood Kyd, with his glass in his hands, with which every few minutes he would sweep the horizon, and then turn and walk the deck. It was a bright, sunny morning; the crested waves leaped merrily about the prow and glanced in the sun as if tipped with gold.
The vessel was a low-built brigantine, with a flush deck, on either side of which was ranged a battery of six carronades—in all twelve guns. Eighty men, half of whom were blacks, that composed her crew, werevariously occupied forward and in the waist, though many of them were lying listlessly between the guns. They were a desperate band, with hard looks, and the aspects of men accustomed to crime and inured to danger. Every man was armed with pistols and cutlass, while racks of these weapons, with the addition of boarding pikes and harquebusses, were ranged about the masts and bulwarks. Order and discipline prevailed throughout the wild company, and, save the bucanier-like character and build of the vessel, it differed not materially in its internal arrangements from a king's ship. The bold spirit that kept these inferior and scarcely less fierce beings in subjection walked the deck with a determined tread, now bending his eyes in thought, now lifting them, flashing with excitement, towards the sea, and rapidly scanning its wide circle. He was dressed in the same picturesque costume that he wore when he first appeared in the presence of Kate Bellamont at the White Hall, though his sword lay upon the companion-way instead of being sheathed at his belt. After taking a longer survey than usual of the horizon, and turning away with an exclamation of disappointment, he was addressed by a short, square-built, swarthy man, with large mustaches and long, matted hair that hung low over his eyes and descended to his broad shoulders, who had hitherto been silently pacing the leeward side of the deck.
"What's in the wind, captain? You seem to steer as if in chase! You gave your orders so briefly to get under weigh, and have loved your own thoughts since so well as to forget to speak. I have not even asked our course."
"We are full three leagues from our anchorage, and, if you have noobjections, suppose we open our sailing orders."
"You are right, Loff," said Kyd, smiling at the blunt address of his first mate, "Listen," he said, walking aft, followed by the mate, where they could speak without being overheard by the helmsman. "Now learn my plans!"
"I have half guessed them."
"What?"
"Some Indiaman, ballasted with guilders, you have heard of in shore."
"Far better than a Spanish argosy. I pursue a rival. Thou art no stranger to an amour pursued by me some years ago with a fair and noble maid of Erin. Before I took the seas I was her only and accepted lover. She is now in the port we left this morning."
"And so you are running away from her."
"No. As some fiend would have it, rumours of my deeds, blown far and wide, at last reached her ears. She lends them to the tale. And when last eve I hastened to her arms, she meets me cold as an icicle; but soon gets warm, charges me with my misdeeds, and at length, taking fire with her own heat, breaks out in full blaze, dips her tongue inch deep in gall, and paints me blacker than the devil."
"Just like these sort o' craft," remarked Loff, dryly.
"This is not all. I found she had plugged the hole in her broken heart with another lover sound and hale."
"And who was this interloper?"
"No less a cavalier than that Fitzroy of the British navy whom we took by stratagem in the Mediterranean, slaying his crew; and who afterward escaped us by swimming a league to the shore."
"I remember him. A proper youth for a woman's eye."
"It shall ne'er look on him again," said Kyd, with fierceness. "He told the story of his escape, confirmed that which before was rumour—"
"And so she put you out her heart and took him in."
"Even so."
"That's what I couldn't stand, captain."
"I'll have revenge. Besides, I think I have an old quarrel to settle with him, if he be the same Fitzroy who escaped from us. Did I not tell thee then he reminded me of one whom I had known under peculiar circumstances in my boyish days?"
"You did," said the mate, after a moment's thought; "and that you said you would, in the morning, see if your suspicions were true."
"And in the morning the bird had flown. It is this suspicion that, from the first mention of his name last night, added to a new object I have in view (which, if he be the one I suspect he is, cannot be accomplished without his death), that sends me in pursuit of him. 'Tis rumoured that he whom I mean was lost at sea; but, if he escaped us by swimming a league, he may have escaped also at that time."
"Where does he hail from now?"
"He is master of the brig of war that brought the new governor to the province; and, hearing of us, with laudable ambition set sail, directly after his arrival, in pursuit of us. He is now on his return, as his leave of absence has expired. I learn by a skipper of a Carolina schooner I hailed in the harbour as I passed him in my boat, that a vessel answering his description was seen three days ago becalmed off the Capes of Delaware."
"Shiver my mizzen! we will soon fall in with him if he is steering back to port."
"If the 'Silver Arrow' hang not like a sleuth-hound on his track, thereis no virtue in wind or canvass."
"What is the name of the chase?" demanded Loff, taking a deliberate survey of the horizon with a weather-beaten spyglass he held in his hand.
"The 'Ger-Falcon,' I am told; and this name, for certain reasons, increases my suspicions that this Fitzroy is he I suspect. If so, I have an old score to balance with him. It is this that adds point to my revenge, and which has led me to seek aid of earth and hell to accomplish my desires."
The "Silver Arrow," bound on its mission of vengeance and crime, continued for the remainder of the day steadily to sail on its southerly course, keeping sufficiently far from land to command a scope of vision on either side nearly forty miles in breadth, so that any vessel following the shore northwardly, if within ten or twelve leagues of the land, could not escape observation.
Two hours before sunset of the same day, in the entrance of one of the numerous inlets that, like a chain of marine lakes, line the eastern shore of Jersey, lay a brig of war at anchor, her upper sails clewed down and her topsails furled. She was lying so close to the wooded shore, that the branches of the trees that grew on the verge of its high banks hung over and mingled with the rigging, while from the main yard it was easy to step on the rocks that towered above the water. On her decks lay several deer recently killed, while sailors were engaged in bringing on board, across a staging that extended from the ship to the shore, a noble stag, with antlers like a young tree. On the summit of a rock that overlooked the scene stood two young men habited as hunters, one leaning on a rifle, the other with a hunting-spear in his hand. Two noble stag-hounds lay panting at their feet. The scene that layoutspread around them was picturesque as it was boundless.
On the east, rolling its waves towards a silvery beach of sand that stretched north and south many leagues, spread the ocean, without a sail to relieve its majestic bosom, which, save here and there a gull with snowy wing skimming its breast, was as lonely and silent as on the day it was created. North, extended a vast forest of foliage, the surface of which, as the winds swept over it wave after wave, was not less restless than the sea. West, lay interminable woods; and nearer slept the lagoon, running northwardly and southwardly in a line with the coast on the outside, broken into many little lakes by green islands, on the sides of which browsed numerous deer. Immediately at their feet was the vessel of war, which, with its busy decks, gave life and variety to the scene.
The two who were enjoying the prospect strikingly contrasted in appearance. One of them was dark and strikingly handsome, with black, penetrating eyes, and a fine mouth characterized by much energy of expression. His hair was jetty black; and, parted on his forehead, fell in natural ringlets about his neck, descending even to his shapely shoulders. His figure was noble and commanding, and his air strikingly dignified. His age could not have been above twenty-three. There was a hue on his cheek, and a certain negligent ease in his air and manner, that showed that his profession was that of the sea. Yet his costume was by no means nautical. He leaned on a short rifle, with a black velvet hunter's bonnet in his hand, shaded by a sable plume. He wore a green embroidered frock, with buff leggins of dressed deerskin richly worked by some Indian maid, and on his feet were buskins of dressed doeskin. Around his waist was a black leathern belt containing a hunting-knife,with a drop or two of fresh blood still upon its blade, and a hunting-horn curiously carved and richly mounted.
His companion was less in height and of lighter make. His face was less browned, nay, scarcely tinged by the suns that had left their shadows upon the other's cheek. His forehead, though partly concealed beneath a hunting-cap of green cloth from which drooped a snow-white feather, was so fair and beautiful, that through the transparent skin of the temples were seen the azure veins tinting the surface with the most delicate lights of blue. The eyes were of a dark hazel, with a merry light dancing in them, which gave promise both of ready wit and good nature, and his cheeks had a bright, glowing colour, doubtless caused by the recent exercise of the chase. His mouth was extremely beautiful, with a winning smile playing about it like sunlight of the heart. The chin beneath was exquisitely rounded, neither too full nor too square, but of that faultless symmetry of which a sculptor would have made a model. About his neck and shoulders flowed glossy waves of auburn hair, while his upper lip was graced by a luxuriant mustache of the same, or, perhaps, of a little darker hue. He wore no cravat, and the collar of his green hunting-coat was turned back, displaying a throat and neck of dazzling whiteness and beauty. Through the bosom of the frock, which was folded back, appeared linen of the finest cambric, richly tamboured, as if done by the fair fingers of some tasteful maiden. The wristbands over his finely shaped and gloved hands were tamboured in the same beautiful manner, and fringed with lace of the most costly texture. Around his waist was bound a crimson sash for a hunting-belt, in which was stuck acouteau du chasse, with a hilt sparkling with jewels. Orientaltrousers, ample in width and of snowy whiteness, fringed at the bottom with tassels depending from a hem of network, descended just below the calf of the leg, between which and the ankle appeared flesh-coloured silken hose of the finest texture and material. Boots of dressed doeskin, soft and smooth as a glove, nicely fitted the feet and ankles, and, divided at the top in two parts, were turned over like the buskins of his companion, but, unlike his, fringed with gold and ornamented with tassels. In his hand he carried a light hunting-spear, which he held with a spirited air, braced against the rock, his attitude being at the same time graceful and gallant. His age appeared to be less than seventeen. The two had gazed upon the noble and extended prospect spread out before them for some time in silence, when the elder, turning to his companion with a condescending yet courteous air, spoke.
"A fair scene, Edwin! I scarcely know which impresses me most, the majesty of the ocean or that of these boundless forests of the New World. Both are alike illimitable. Perhaps the sea has more of the sublime, for it is associated with the tempest in its terrible power, and its ever-heaving bosom seems to me the pulse of the earth."
"You give language to the thoughts which were passing in my own mind. The world seems to me a vast being ever—its flowing rivers like veins and arteries in the human system—its subterranean fires like the passions slumbering in our hearts—its ocean heaving like a bosom lifted by a heart beneath it. See! the stag has leaped the bulwarks into the water!"
His companion turned and beheld the noble monarch of the wood, who had broke away from his captors at a bound, parting the flood with his broadbreast, and swimming across the lagoon towards the opposite shore, tossing his branching antlers in the air as if in defiance, and rejoicing at obtaining his wild freedom. A dozen pistols and handguns were instantly levelled at him, when the taller of the two cried out from the cliff,
"Hold! Fire not, on your lives! He has nobly won his freedom!"
Every weapon was lowered obedient to his voice, and proudly the enfranchised animal breasted his way towards a wooded isle a few hundred yards off.
"We have venison enough, and the princely creature shall escape," he added, turning to the other. "By the bow of Diana! we have well done for a four hours' hunt with but a brace of dogs—though ye are noble brutes, both Chasseur and Di!" The dogs seemed to comprehend instinctively his words of praise, and, with a glad whine sliding along to his feet, at a sign of encouragement bounded upon him with joyful barks. "Hist! be still! Ye are over rude because I give ye a word and a nod."
"They must come in for a portion of our thanks from the earl when he gets his game."
"And a feast they shall have, for they have shown their true Irish blood."
"You speak of Ireland often, sir. You must love it."
"I do." He then said quickly, "You alone must he thank, Edwin, that he gets even a haunch instead of nearly a score of fat bucks such as strew our decks yonder. It was well thought of, as this bucanier had escaped us on this cruise, to put in at this famous deer island, and, by supplying the governor's table for the month to come, make him forget our failure. I would the stag had not escaped, nevertheless, for I wouldgladly have made a present of it to his fair daughter. You sigh, Edwin!"
"Did I?"
"By the bow of Dan Cupid, did you! You are full young to think of maiden's love."
"Am I?" said the youth, absently, and with an abstracted air.
"Truly thou must be in love, Edwin," said the other, with a kindly laugh, that became his manly and open features. "I marvel who it may be. You shake your head! Well," he added, laughing, "so long as it is not my noble Kate, I care not who it be. I knew a maiden once whom I would have loved—so gentle, fair, and good, besides nobleborn and generous was she—if I had not loved anoth—"
"Who—who this maiden?" he said, abruptly interrupting him, and laying his hand upon the arm of the speaker with surprising energy.
"Thou art over quick in thy speech," said the other, turning and speaking coldly.
"Nay, pardon me, sir, I did forget my station," said the other, bending his head and crossing his hands upon his bosom.
"Nay, Edwin, you go too far! I do not like this manner, and this, I know not what to call it, way you have of assuming an attitude, when reproved, becoming a bashful girl rather than the manhood thy mustache, if not thy years, challenges thee to assert. I will answer thy question. It was a fair and gentle creature, whom in my boyhood I knew only as the humble sailor knows the stars that burn nightly above him. I gazed on her afar off, and dared not approach her nearer, for she was noble, and, as thou knowest, I was lowly born. She was gentle, kind, and good;gratitude fills my heart when I speak of her, for I owe her much; she first awakened ambition in me, and pointed me the way to make myself noble. Her eloquence I shall never forget. Its effect upon me is indelible. I will some day tell thee how first I met her, and the interest she took in me."
"Did you see her often?"
"No. But once we spoke together! But that once produced the seeds of the fruit of happiness I since have gathered."
"Strange that seeing her but once should have had such an effect upon thee."
"It was like sunlight first let in upon the man's vision who is born blind."
"If such the influence she held over you—if thus you speak of her now, why did not her image take a deeper hold in your heart—nay, why did you not love her, sir?"
"Because I loved another."
The youth sighed, and then said, "What motive induced her to take this interest in you?"
"Save that it was prompted by her own gentle and good spirit, I know not," he said with frankness.
"May it not have been love?" said the other, with hesitation.
The elder started, and turned and gazed on the speaker an instant with surprise before he replied:
"Love! How could she love a lowborn boy like me? 'Twas pity, rather."
"Nay, 'twas love."
"Nay, I will not have the vanity to think so, nor will I do her motives so much wrong."
"Said you she was fair?"
"As maiden ever was."
"Gentle?"
"As a seraph, if it should come to earth to habit in woman's form."
"Good?"
"As an angel."
"Fair, gentle, and good?"
"All three."
"And yet you loved her not?"
"I lovedanother! therefore, if she had been indeed an angel, I could not have loved, though I might have worshipped her."
The young man bent his head low till the snowy plume hid his face, and a deep sigh escaped his bosom. "Her thou wouldst have me love, then?" he asked, after a moment's silence, during which the eyes of the other were habitually scanning the horizon.
"I would."
"Wherefore?"
"Because I love thee!"
"Love me!" he cried, starting.
"As a brother do I. In truth this chase has fevered you, and you are not yourself, Edwin. Let us aboard!"
They were about to descend to the ship, when the elder, glancing once more around the horizon, suddenly fixed his eyes in a northwardly direction, and, after a moment's steady look, exclaimed,
"A sail!"
The younger arrested his descending footstep, and also turned his eyes in the same direction, and discerned a white dot on the extreme verge of water and sky, the stationary appearance of which, though neither form nor outline was distinguishable at the distance it was from them, indicated it to be a vessel.
"It may be a merchantman!" he said.
"It may be the bucanier! Craft of any sort are so scarce in these colonial seas at this season, that the chances are full three to one forthe pirate. We must on board and make sail."
As he spoke they descended, followed by their dogs, the precipitous rock, and the next moment stood on the vessel's deck. A few brief orders were given by the elder of the two, who, it was apparent, was the commander of the brig; the anchor was weighed, the topsails loosened and set, and, catching a light breeze that blew through the mouth of the lagoon seaward, she soon left the wooded shores, and rode gallantly over the billows of the open sea in the direction of the sail they had seen from the cliff. What had first appeared a white speck on the rim of the sea now grew into shape and form, and, with the glass, the upper sails of a brigantine could be seen down to her courses, her hull still being beneath the horizon.
Swiftly the brig of war cut the blue waves, all her light and drawing sails set. Her armed deck, on each side of which bristled seven eighteen pounders, with their armament, presented an appearance of that order and propriety which, even on the eve of battle, characterizes the interior of a British ship of war. The weather-beaten tars, who had all been called to quarters, leaned over the forward bulwarks, and watched with interest the distant sail, but made their remarks in a subdued tone to each other. All was ready for action in case the stranger should prove to be an enemy. The helmsman, with his eyes now dropped on the compass, now directed ahead towards the sail, stood cool and collected at his post; the officer of the deck paced with a thoughtful brow fore and aft in the waist, every few seconds stopping to survey the chase, while the junior officers, each at his station, silently regarded the object, their eyes sparkling with excitement as each moment brought them nearer to it. In a magnificent upper cabin or poop, constructed on thequarter-deck, and gorgeous with curtains of crimson, sofas, ottomans, and rich Turkish rugs laid over the floor with latticed windows opening on every side to the water, were the two hunters. They had now changed their costume for one more appropriate to the sea and the quarter-deck of an armed vessel. The youthful captain wore the undress uniform of his rank and profession, his hunting-knife replaced by a small sword, and his bugle by a brace of pistols. He was standing by the window with his eyes upon the vessel ahead. The other had substituted a plain suit of black velvet for his former rich costume, and an elegant rapier hung at one side and a silver inkhorn at the other. He was seated at an ebony escritoir writing, and, from his pursuit and apparel, evidently held the rank of private secretary.
"He is standing south by east, Edwin," said the youthful captain, turning from the lattice and addressing the youth with animation; "we shall intercept him by sunset if this wind holds. But methinks," he added with interest, fixing his eyes upon him as, with his rich hair drooping about his cheeks, he leaned, forgetful of his occupation, over the sheet, "that of late you are getting sad and absent. This station does not suit your ambition, perhaps. You would be an officer instead of a clerk."
"Nay, sir, I would be as I am; I am not discontent so that I can be near—" here he checked himself, bent his head to his writing, and did not look up until he fell a hand gently laid upon his shoulder. He started, while the colour came and went in his cheek with confusion, and he shrunk instinctively away.
"Beshrew me, fair youth! I know not what to make of thee," said theyoung captain, taking a seat beside him, and resting one arm familiarly upon his shoulder. "Thou hast some deep, untold grief at thy heart. If it be a love secret—a tale of love unrequited—of cruel maids and broken promises," he said, gayly, "why, then, out with it; make me your confidant; I will tell you how to make her heart ache, and to wish thee back again. Come, Edwin, unburden thy thoughts. Unspoken, they will feed upon the cheek and eye, and the grave have thee ere thou hast attained manhood."
The youthful secretary was silent a few moments, and then said, with an attempt to smile,
"I have a tale of love, but not of mine."
"I will hear it, and then tell thee if I think it thine or no."
"There was once a noble maiden, the heiress of an earldom, who loved a peasant youth, handsome and brave, and the nobility he gat not by birth nature endowed him with. The maiden was proud and independent of spirit, and loved him for himself—for title, wealth, and rank she thought not!"
"A generous creature. And this humble youth loved her in return?"
"No."
"No! then, by Heaven, he was ignoble indeed, and her love was ill placed, poor lady!"
"Nay—heloved another!"
"Ha, was it so?" he said, with a peculiar smile; "then I must pardon him! But did she tell him of her love?"
"Never!"
"Who was this village maiden that supplanted her?"
"She was no lowly maid! but noble as herself."
"He was full ambitious! Did she love him in return?"
"Nay, not then," said he, hesitatingly.
"Edwin, you are giving my very history! You hang your head! What, is it I of whom you speak?" he exclaimed, with animated interest.
"I gave no name."
"Nay," he said, blushing, "I will not think, though the tale tallies in some parts so well with my own, that a noble maiden e'er could have regarded me with sentiments beneath her station. Go on."
"Time went on, and her love grew. Unseen, unknown, she exerted her influence, and had him (for he took to the seas) elevated from rank to rank, though his own prowess won for him each grade ere he rose to it; at length he became a captain. Many years had elapsed in the interval, and she had not seen him; but, every few months, rumour trumpeted to her his gallant deeds, and in her secret heart she rejoiced with all the pride of love."
"And still she loved him?"
"Better and better. Absence only increased the intensity of her passion. At length she resolved to see him, and, unknown to him, see if she could not win his love; for she believed, silly girl, that time had caused him to forget his first passion for the noble maid who had disdained him for his low birth. At length an opportunity presented itself that held out to her the prospect of accomplishing her wish. A nobleman related to her was appointed governor of a distant province, and this youth was appointed to the command of the vessel that should convey him to his government. The noble was the father of the highborn maiden he loved. Love rousedherfears. She resolved to go in the same ship, and be a check upon the renewal of his love."
"Your story interests me. Do not pause. Go on!"
"So she disguised herself as a page, and, under the pretence of going toIreland, to spend a few weeks with a maiden aunt, came on board his vessel, and offered herself as his secretary!"
"Edwin, this is a wondrous tale!" he exclaimed, starting to his feet with surprise. "Yet no, it cannot be," he said, half aloud, after steadily looking at him a moment. "Proceed!"
"She was received and sailed with him. Love excuses much. Yet her friends were on board with her, and it was not as if she had thrown herself on this rash adventure alone. The maiden that he had loved in youth he wooed and won. She knew him not as the humble youth. He had taken another name with his better fortunes. In the noble-looking officer that commanded the ship, and whose gallant name had filled the world, she did not recognise the humble lad whom she had known in earlier years. The disguised girl witnessed the progress of their love with a breaking heart."
"Poor maiden! She should have made known her love, and it might have met return."
"No, no, she could not. Yet she could not leave him, even when she knew he cared not for her—knew not of her existence, or that he was loved by her with such enduring attachment."
"Had it been my case, I would have loved her, had she made herself known, for her very devotion. Love begets love, and so does gratitude. I could not but have loved her."
"Nay—if you loved another?"
"Not while I loved that other. But if that love had met no return, or afterward were crushed and blighted by adverse circumstances, then my heart would have turned to this gentle, devoted, heroic maiden, whose love had been so strong as to lead her to idolize me, and follow me in disguise even over the sea."
"Wouldst thou have done this?"
"By my troth! would I. I half love the maiden now, of whose devotedness you speak so eloquently. If it were my case, Kate would have a dangerous rival. I never could resist so much womanly devotion. Not I, Edwin."
"Would you not rather despise her?"
"No. True love is sacred and honourable ever."
"When it o'ersteps the bounds of maidenly propriety?"
"Yes, Edwin, in a case like this of which you speak."
At this instant the officer of the deck reported that the strange sail had suddenly changed her course from the southeast, and was standing towards them.
The captain seized his glass, and, examining her, said with animation,
"Her hull has lifted, and she shows a tier of ports. A red riband running around her bends! polacca rigged, and courses up, with a bow as sharp as a canoe! It is 'the Kyd,'" he cried, with joyful surprise.
Instantly all was animation and intense excitement on board. The guns were double-shotted, the hammock nettings were stowed closer and firmer than usual, hand-grenades lined the decks, and every missile and weapon of offence or defence that could be pressed into service on so desperate an encounter as that anticipated, was brought forth and placed ready for use. All that skill and determination to conquer could devise was done; and, under a steady but light wind on her larboard quarter, she fast neared the stranger, who also was observed to shorten sail and make other demonstrations of a hostile character. They continued to approach each other until less space than a mile separated them, when the youthful captain, who, with his trumpet in his hand, had taken his placein the main rigging, shouted,
"Hoist the ensign, and pitch a shot from the weather-bow gun across his fore-foot."
The broad flag of England instantly ascended to the peak, and unfolded its united crosses displayed on its blood-red field. At the same time a column of flame shot from her sides, and the vessel shook with the loud report of the gun.
"It has dashed the spray into their faces," said the captain, who had followed the path of the ball with the glass at his eye. "Ha! by Heaven, there goes the black flag, with its silver arrow emblazoned on it.It is Kyd.He has fired!"
A puff of smoke at the instant curled up from the side of the pirate vessel, as it now proved to be beyond question, and the next moment a twelve pound shot, with a roaring noise, buried itself deep in the mainmast, twenty feet above the deck. The spar trembled from the shock, and even the vessel reeled to one side from the force of the iron projectile.
"This is an unlucky hit. It has weakened our best spar! We must have the weather-gauge of him, and run down and lay him by the board if he is so good a marksman at a long shot," said the captain.
No more shots were fired, and the vessels were now within hailing distance, when, cheering his crew by animated words as well as by his example, and irresistibly communicating to them a portion of his own spirit, the young captain stood by the helmsman, and directed him to steer so as to strike the advancing pirate with the larboard bow just forward of the fore-chains. He ordered the hand-grenades to be in readiness to be thrown on board as soon as they should come near enough, and the grappling-irons to be kept clear and cast at an instant'snotice, while in two dense parties, commanded by the chief officers, the boarders were drawn up, prepared to leap on board cutlass in hand.
Swiftly and with appalling stillness the two hostile barks approached each other, both close hauled on the wind, and moving at nearly equal speed. It was within half an hour of sunset, and the level rays of the sun suffused the sea with a flush of gold and crimson. The wooded shores, which were two miles distant, were touched with a brighter green, and the western sky was as bright and varied with gorgeous colours as if a rainbow had been dissipated over it. The hostile companies in the two vessels saw none of its beauties and thought only of the sun that gave glory to the scene, as a light that was to lend its aid to the approaching conflict. Nearer and nearer they came together, yet unable, from their direct advance upon each other, to bring their guns to bear. To fire their bow guns would have checked their speed: both, therefore, advanced in silence until each could see the features of his foe. Conspicuous on their decks stood the commanders of each brig, directing their several courses, and giving commands that were distinctly heard from one vessel to the other: Kyd, with his light flowing locks, his fair, noble brow and commanding figure, on the quarter-deck near the helmsman with a stern and hostile expression in his eyes and the altitude of one impatient to mingle in the conflict, which he seemed to anticipate with vengeful triumph: the young captain, calm, cool, and commanding, his features glowing with the excitement of the occasion, and animated, as it seemed, with an honest ambition to punish a lawless bucanier who had so long filled sea and land with the terror of his name.
"Stand by, hand-grenades!" he shouted, as the vessels were within a fewfeet of each other.
"All ready!"
"Cast!" he cried, with a voice of thunder.
Instantly a score of these missiles were flying through the air in the direction of the crowded decks of the pirate. But, ere they had left the hand, quicker than thought the pirate's helm had been put hard up, and every sheet and brace being at the same time let go, she fell off suddenly from the wind, and presented her broadside to the bows of the brig; all but one or two of the grenades fell short and plunged into the water, and those that struck her were thrown overboard ere they could do injury. At the same instant the bows of the brig struck her starboard side nearly midships, and such was the tremendous force of the shock that her slight timbers were stove in, four out of six of the guns that composed the battery dismounted, while, vibrating with the shock beyond its tensity, the foremast, with its chain of connected yards, snapped off even with the deck, and fell with a terrible crash and dire confusion and ruin into the sea. Loud was the shout of success that rose from the crew of the brig, and, rushing forward, they prepared to leap upon the deck of the bucanier.
"Back, men! she is filling!" cried the young captain, who had gained the bowsprit of his vessel, where he stood sword in hand, and, like his crew, in the act of springing on board.
"We are going down!" was the universal cry that rose from the pirate's decks, and the rush of the waters into her hold was distinctly heard above the noise and confusion of the scene.
"Let her sink!" shouted Kyd, bounding amidships among his men. "Here is a king's ship worth three of it!"
His appeal was answered by a demoniac yell from his pirate crew; and,inspired by their imminent peril as well as their natural ferocity, they sprung, as one man, upon the bows of the brig, and, by mere force of numbers and desperation, in an instant took possession of the forecastle, and drove its defenders aft. The last man had scarcely gained a footing upon it, when, with a plunge like the dying struggle of a wounded animal, the "Silver Arrow," so long the besom of the ocean, shot down into its unfathomable depths, finding a grave in the element upon which it had so long rode in triumph. The brig pitched and rolled from side to side fearfully as she was received into the vortex the sinking vessel had left, while she so far sunk down that the waves rolled a foot deep over her bows, and flowed in an irresistible torrent aft to the quarter-deck.
For a few seconds after the disappearance of the brigantine there was a deep hush over the human throng. Every soul was touched with the sublimity of the spectacle, and an impression, not unlike that with which a child looks on death, rested for an instant on all. But it was only for an instant: the situation in which the two parties were so suddenly and so singularly placed, in such relative positions to each other, flashed upon their minds, and every eye lighted up with the fire of conflict.
"Farewell to the brave galley!" said Kyd, as he saw the flag at her peak trail on the water as she went down. "Now, my boys, we have no vessel save this! Five minutes will show whether it belongs to his majesty or 'the Kyd.' Let us sweep yonder honest folk from her, boys," he cried, pointing aft, where the brig's crew were resolutely drawn up before the quarter-deck under their captain, by whose side stood, with a resolute eye and fearless attitude, his youthful secretary. "But, on your lives,spare the captain! Also harm not that fair youth beside him. I like his face for its resemblance to one I once knew. Now at them, and fight like devils, for either you or they must be driven overboard!"
"Receive them steadily and with firm front, my men," cried the captain of the brig; "remember, your lives depend on retaining your ship. Do not forget you are British seamen, fighting for your king and country, your wives and sweethearts! and that your foes are a set of bloodthirsty bucaniers, who fight from desperation, and show neither mercy nor favour. Edwin, my young friend, your station is not here."
"I will not leave your side," he said, firmly.
"Nay, then, here they come like mad devils. God and our country! Meet them half way! St. George and at them!"
He was the first to set the example, and met the desperate charge almost single handed. The number of pirates was more than seventy, while the crew and officers of the brig did not exceed sixty. Nearly the whole of these were now engaged; those at a distance, who were unable to mingle in the mêlée and use their swords, briskly discharging their firearms, while those of either party on the skirts of the fight cheered their comrades on with loud cries. For a few moments the brig's crew had the advantage, and pressed their assailants back on every hand, while from side to side flowed the heady current of battle, and the human masses swayed this way and that like an agitated sea; and, with a roar still more terrible than the ocean in its wildest fury ever sent up, shouts of onset, cries of rage or pain, yells, and execrations filled the air, mingled with the reports of pistols, the clash of steel, and the strange thunder of a hundred feet upon the hollow decks. At length the seamengave way before their desperate antagonists, whom the cheering voice of their leader inspired with tenfold courage and ferocity.
"At them. Leave not a man alive! One good blow and the brig is ours. Bear them down! Give no quarter! Ha, Fitzroy! Ha! do we meet again! I have sought thee to enjoy this moment. Back, hounds," he shouted to his men; "will ye press me? there is meaner game for you! I alone deal with him."
"The same moment, then, crowns my wish and thine," said Fitzroy, crossing his weapon.
They had exchanged a few fierce passes without effect, when they were separated by the tide of the conflict, and borne to opposite sides of the deck. At this moment Edwin the secretary, who had been animating the crew by his cheering cries, said quickly in the ear of Fitzroy,
"Make a sudden charge with all your force, save six men to man the two after guns; drive them back to the forecastle, if possible, and then retreat, and I will, at the same moment, turn upon them the pieces which I have already had loaded with grape." This was spoken with rapidity and clearness.
"It shall be done," was the stern reply. "Ho, my brave tars! one blow for merry England! one good blow for the king. Charge them all at once. Follow me. Hurrah for the king!"
"Hurrah for King Billy, hurrah!" shouted the seamen, with one voice, catching the spirit of their young captain.
So sudden and well directed was the charge, that the pirates gave back in a body till they reached the windlass, when, in a voice like a trumpet, Fitzroy shouted,
"Every Englishman throw himself upon his face! Fire!"
"Down!" re-echoed Kyd, instinctively, at the same moment.
Disciplined to obey the lightest order, every sailor cast himself upon the deck; but most of the pirates heard too late the warning command of their chief, and the same instant, from both of the quarter-deck guns, a shower of grape whistled like a whirlwind over the heads of the crew, while with the roar of cannon mingled the groans and shrieks of half a score of bucaniers.
"Vengeance! vengeance! Will ye be slaughtered like dogs! Upon them! Cut them down! Leave not one alive! Vengeance!"
Loud and terrific was the cry of vengeance, followed by a rush of the pirates aft that was irresistible. The crew were cut down scarcely ere they had risen to their feet, and sabred with hellish ferocity wherever they could be grappled with. In a moment's space two thirds of the seamen, who had been seized with a sudden panic at the demoniac rush of the pirates, whom they expected to have seen discomfited by the wholesale slaughter of their comrades, fell a prey to their savage ferocity, and the decks were deluged with their blood. Many leaped overboard, and others sprang into the rigging to fall dead into the sea.
"On, on! the brig is ours!" shouted the pirate chief, waving his reeking sabre. "Charge the quarter-deck!"
Thither Fitzroy, with Edwin, had retreated with the remnant of his crew, which were scarcely twenty in number.
"Surrender!" demanded Kyd.
"With our lives only!" was the firm reply.
"Dash at them, ye devils! But see ye touch not the two I have marked as my own game! Let your blades drink deep; we shall soon be masters here. Now on!"
They were received by a discharge of pistols, which only increased the ferocity of those who escaped the fire, and, cutlass in hand, the quarter-deck was carried after a desperate resistance. Fitzroy was taken prisoner with much difficulty, and at the cost of several lives of his assailants, while Kyd himself disarmed the secretary. To a man the brave crew were slain, either in fair fight while defending their station, or massacred in cold blood at the termination of the sanguinary conflict. The pirates were now masters of the brig, though its conquest had cost them full half of their number.
"Clear the decks of both dead and wounded!" said the victor, leaning on his bloody sabre and gazing over the decks, which wore the aspect of a slaughter-house.
"Of our own men?" said he who has before been named as Lawrence.
"Ay! every man that cannot rise on his feet and walk. We want no hospital of the brig!"
At this order one or two of the wounded pirates attempted to get to their legs; but finding, after several ineffectual struggles, that it was out of their power, fell back powerless, with execrations on their lips, which had hardly ceased before their living bodies parted the crimson flood alike with the dead. The sun still shone upon the scene of carnage, and, ere he set, the brig was cleared of the bodies of both pirate and seaman; the decks were washed; sail was made; the new crew were posted at their different stations as they had been, though in fewer numbers, on board their former vessel; and, half an hour after the conflict, as the disk of the sun sunk behind the Highlands of Monmouth, scarcely a vestige of the terrific contest was apparent in the orderlyexterior and accurate nautical appointments of the captured vessel.
The moon rose like a shield of pearl, and flung her pale, snowy light along the dark waves, and silvered the sails of the brig as she went bowling along over the sparkling surges. On the quarter-deck sat Captain Fitzroy and his youthful secretary. They were unarmed, and the elder manacled with heavy irons; but the younger was unbound. Not far from them, at times stopping to survey them, walked moodily their captor, his brow knit with thought, and his lips compressed with fierce resolution. At length he stopped, and said to an inferior officer who stood in the waste leaning over the bulwarks and watching the swift and steady progress of the vessel through the water,
"Griffin, prepare the plank!"
"You do not mean—"
"It matters not to you what I mean. Obey me! You are given of late to question my orders too boldly. Bring the brig to and get out the plank," he reiterated, in a firm manner.
"There has been blood enough shed," said the man, with dogged determination, folding his arms and looking his commander in the face. "I will do no more of it."
"Ha! by the living spirit! Mutiny?"
"I will be a butcher no longer, be it mutiny or not. I am sick of it."
"Will you to your duty, sir?"
"To work the ship, but not to take more life," said the officer, steadily.
"You are mad, Griffin! My authority must not be questioned, even by you. I would not take your life," he added, placing his hand on the butt of a pistol and half drawing it from his belt. "You cannot be alone in this mutiny—you wear too bold a front."
"Nor am I. Ho! lads—a Griffin! a Griffin!"
The loud cry of the mutineer was responded to by the shout of eight or ten pirates, who instantly placed themselves, with drawn cutlasses, around him.
"By the cross! it is well matured!" muttered Kyd, with terrible calmness. "Back, fellows! To your posts! You, Griffin—for the last time—to your station, sir, and bring the brig to!"
"Never, sir! Draw and charge. Now is our time!" he cried to his party.
A cry between a yell and the sound made by the gnashing of teeth escaped the infuriated bucanier chief. Like a tiger, he sprung upon them single-handed, and struck back half a score of blades with a single broad sweep of his cutlass, while those who wielded them stood appalled.