Chapter Eighteen.

Chapter Eighteen.The Pirate’s Island—Continued.Next morning Sam Shipton awoke from a sound and dreamless slumber. Raising himself on the soft ottoman, or Eastern couch, on which he had spent the night, he looked round in a state of sleepy wonder, unable at first to remember where he was. Gradually he recalled the circumstances and events of the preceding day.The forms of his companions lay on couches similar to his own in attitudes of repose, and the seaman still slept profoundly in the position in which he had been laid down when brought in.Through the mouth of the cavern Sam could see the little garden, glowing like an emerald in the beams of the rising sun, and amongst the bushes he observed the old couple stooping quietly over their labour of gathering weeds. The warm air, the bright sunshine, and the soft cries of distant sea-birds, induced Sam to slip into such of his garments as he had put off, and go out quietly without rousing his companions.In a few minutes he stood on the summit of the islet and saw the wide ocean surrounding him, like a vast sparkling plain, its myriad wavelets reflecting now the dazzling sun, now the azure vault, the commingling yellow and blue of which resulted in a lovely transparent green, save where a few puffs of wind swept over the great expanse and streaked it with lines of darkest blue.“Truly,” murmured Sam, as he gazed in admiration at the glorious expanse of sea and sky, “Robin is right when he says that we are not half sufficiently impressed with the goodness of the Almighty in placing us in the midst of such a splendid world, with capacity to appreciate and enjoy it to the full. I begin to fear that I am a more ungrateful fellow than I’ve been used to think.”For some time he continued to gaze in silence as if that thought were working.From his elevated position he could now see that the islet was not quite so barren as at first he had been led to suppose. Several little valleys and cup-like hollows lay nestling among the otherwise barren hills, like lovely gems in a rough setting. Those, he now perceived, must have been invisible from the sea, and the rugged, almost perpendicular, cliffs in their neighbourhood had apparently prevented men from landing and discovering their existence. One of the valleys, in particular, was not only larger than the others, but exceptionally rich in vegetation, besides having a miniature lake, like a diamond, in its bosom.Descending the hill and returning to the cave, Sam found his comrades still asleep. Letta was assisting old Meerta in the preparation of a substantial breakfast that would not have done discredit to a first-class hotel.“Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come!” said Letta, running up, to him and giving him both hands to shake, and a ready little mouth to kiss, “for I didn’t like to awaken your friends, and the sailor one looks so still that I fear he may be dying. I saw one of the naughty men die here, and he looked just like that.”Somewhat alarmed by this, Sam went at once to the sailor and looked earnestly at him.“No fear, Letta,” he said, “the poor fellow is not dying; he is only in a very profound sleep, having been much exhausted and nearly killed yesterday. Hallo, Robin! awake at last?”Robin, who had been roused by the voices, rubbed his eyes, yawned vociferously, and looked vacantly round.“Well, now, that’s most extraordinary; it isn’t a dream after all!”“It’s an uncommon pleasant dream, if it is one,” remarked Jim Slagg, with a grave stare at Robin, as he sat up on his couch. “I never in all my born days dreamt such a sweet smell of coffee and fried sausages. Why, the old ’ooman’s a-bringin’ of ’em in, I do declare. Pinch me, Stumps, to see if I’m awake!”As Stumps was still asleep, Slagg himself resorted to the method referred to, and roused his comrade. In a few minutes they were all seated at breakfast with the exception of the sailor, whom it was thought best to leave to his repose until nature should whisper in his ear.“Well now,” said Slagg, pausing to rest for a few seconds, “if wehada submarine cable ’tween this and England, and we was to give ’em an account of all we’ve seen an’ bin doin’, they’d never believe it.”“Cer’nly not. They’d say it wos all a passel o’ lies,” remarked Stumps; “but I say, Mr Sam—”“Come now, Stumps, don’t ‘Mister’ me any more.”“Well, I won’t do it any more, though ’tain’t easy to change one’s ’abits. But how is it, sir, that that there electricity works? That’s what I wants to know. Does the words run along the cable,—or ’ow?”“Of course they do, Stumpy,” interrupted Slagg, “they run along the cable like a lot o’ little tightrope dancers, an’ when they come to the end o’t they jumps off an’ ranges ’temselves in a row. Sometimes, in coorse, they spells wrong, like bad schoolboys, and then they’ve to be walloped an’ set right.”“Hold your noise, Slagg, an’ let your betters speak,” returned Stumps.“Well, if they don’t exactly do that,” said Sam Shipton, “there are people who think they can do things even more difficult. I remember once, when I was clerk at a country railroad station and had to work the telegraph, an old woman came into the ticket office in a state of wild despair. She was about the size and shape of Meerta there, but with about an inch and a half more nose, and two or three ounces less brain.“‘What’s wrong, madam?’ I asked, feeling quite sorry for the poor old thing.“‘Oh! sir,’ said she, clasping her hands, ‘I’ve bin an’ left my passel,—a brown paper one it was,—on the seat at the last station, an’ there was a babby’s muffler in it—the sweetest thing as ever was—an’ f–fi’ pun t–ten, on’y one sh–shillin’ was b–bad—boo-hoo!’“She broke down entirely at this point, so, said I, ‘Madam, make your mind quite easy, sit down, and I’ll telegraph at once,’ so I telegraphed, and got a reply back immediately that the parcel had been found all right, and would be sent on as soon as possible. I told this to the old lady, who seemed quite pleased, and went on to the platform to wait.“I was pretty busy for the next quarter of an hour, for it was market day at the next town, but I noticed through the window that the old lady was standing on the platform, gazing steadily up at the sky.“‘Broxley—third class,’ said a big farmer at that moment, with a head like one of his own turnips.“I gave him his ticket, and for five minutes more I was kept pretty busy, when up came the train; in got the struggling crowd; whew! went the whistle, and away went the whole affair, leaving no one on the platform but the porter, and the old woman still staring up at the sky.“‘What’s the matter, madam?’ I asked.“‘Matter!’ she exclaimed, ‘a pretty telegraphyoursis to be sure! wuss than the old carrier by a long way. Here ’ave I bin standin’ for full ’alf-an-hour with my neck nigh broke, and there’s no sign of it yet.’“‘No sign of what, madam?’“‘Of my brown paper passel, to be sure. Didn’t you tell me, young man, that they said they’d send it by telegraph as soon as possible?’“‘No, madam,’ I replied, ‘I told you they had telegraphed to say they would send it on as soon as possible—meaning, of course, by rail, for we have not yet discovered the method of sending parcels by telegraph—though, no doubt, we shall in course of time. If you’ll give me your address I’ll send the parcel to you.’“‘Thank you, young man. Do,’ she said, giving me an old envelope with her name on it. ‘Be sure you do. I don’t mind the money much, but I couldn’t a-bear to lose that muffler. It wassucha sweet thing, turned up with yaller, and a present too, which it isn’t many of ’em comes my way.’“So you see, Stumps, some people have queer notions about the powers of the telegraph.”“But did the old lady get the parcel all right?” asked Stumps, who was a sympathetic soul.“Of course she did, and came over to the station next day to thank me, and offer me the bad shilling by way of reward. Of course I declined it with many expressions of gratitude.”While they were thus adding intellectual sauce to the material feast of breakfast, the rescued sailor awoke from his prolonged sleep, and stretched himself.He was a huge, thick-set man, with a benign expression of countenance, but that phase of his character was somewhat concealed at the time by two black eyes, a swollen nose, a cut lip, and a torn cheek. Poor fellow, he had suffered severely at the hands of the pirates, and suddenly checked the stretch in which he was indulging with a sharp groan, or growl, as he sat up and pressed his hand to his side.“Why, what’s the matter with me, an’ where am I?” he exclaimed, gazing round the cave, while a look of wonder gradually displaced the expression of pain.“You’re all right—rescued from the pirates at all events,” answered Sam Shipton, rising from table and sitting down beside the seaman’s couch.“Thank God for that!” said the man earnestly, though with a troubled look; “but how did I escape—where are the rascals?—what—”“There, now, don’t excite yourself, my man; you’re not quite yourself in body. Come, let me feel your pulse. Ah, slightly feverish—no wonder—I’ll tell you all about it soon, but at present you must be content merely to know that you are safe in the hands of friends, that you are in the pirates’ cave, and that the pirates and their vessel are now at the bottom of the sea.”“That’s hardly c’rect, Mr Shipton,” murmured Slagg; “I would have said they was blow’d to hatoms.”The seaman turned and looked at the speaker with what would have been a twinkle if his swelled visage would have permitted, but the effort produced another spasm of pain.“I must examine you, friend,” said Sam; “you have been severely handled. Help me to strip him, Robin.”The poor man at once submitted.“You’re a doctor, sir, I suppose?” he asked.“No,” said Sam, “only an amateur; nevertheless I know what I’m about. You see, I think that every man in the world, whatever his station or profession, should be at least slightly acquainted with every subject under the sun in connection with which he may be called on to act. In other words, he should know at least a little about surgery, and physic, and law, and carpentering, blacksmithing, building, cooking, riding, swimming, and—hallo! why, two of your ribs are broken, my man!”“Sorry to hear it, sir, but not surprised, for I feels as if two or three o’ my spines was broken also, and five or six o’ my lungs bu’sted. You won’t be able to mend ’em, I fear.”“Oh, yes, I shall,” said Sam cheerily.“Ah! that’s well. I’d thowt that p’r’aps you wouldn’t have the tools ’andy in these parts for splicin’ of ’em.”“Fortunately no tools are required,” returned Sam. “I’ll soon put you right, but you’ll have to lie still for some time. Here, Robin, go into the store-cave and fetch me a few yards of that white cotton, you remember, near the door. And, I say, mind you keep well clear of the powder.”When the cotton was brought, Sam tore it up into long strips, which he wound somewhat tightly round the sailor’s huge chest.“You see,” he observed, as he applied the bandages, “broken ribs are not necessarily displaced, but the action of breathing separates the ends of them continually, so that they can’t get a chance of re-uniting. All we have to do, therefore, is to prevent your taking a full breath, and this is accomplished by tying you up tight—so. Now, you can’t breathe fully even if you would, and I’d recommend you not to try. By the way—what’s your name?”“Johnson, sir,—John Johnson.”“Well, Johnson, I’ll give you something to eat and drink now, after which you’ll have another sleep. To-morrow we’ll have a chat on things in general.”“I say,” asked Robin that night, as he and Sam stood star-gazing together beside a small fire which had been kindled outside the cavern-mouth for cooking purposes, “is it true that you have studied all the subjects you mentioned to Johnson this morning?”“Quite true. I have not indeed studied them long or profoundly, but I have acquired sufficient knowledge of each to enable me to take intelligent action, as I did this morning, instead of standing helplessly by, or, what might be worse, making a blind attempt to do something on the chance that it might be the right thing, as once happened to myself when a bungling ignoramus gave me a glass of brandy to cure what he called mulligrumps, but what in truth turned out to be inflammation.”“But what think you of the saying that ‘a little knowledge is a dangerous thing,’ Sam.”“I think that, like most of the world’s maxims, it is only partially, or relatively, true. If Little Knowledge claims the position and attempts to act the part of Great Knowledge, it becomes dangerous indeed; but if Little Knowledge walks modestly, and only takes action when none but Ignorance stands by, it is, in my opinion, neither dangerous nor liable to be destructive.”While they were speaking, little Letta came out of the cavern and ran towards them.“It is like a dream of the Arabian Nights to meet such a little angel here,” murmured Robin; “what a dreadful blow the loss of her must have been to her poor mother!”“O! come to Johnson, please,” she said, taking Sam by the hand with a very trustful look and manner.“Why; he’s not worse, is he?”“O no! he has just awakened, and says he isverymuch better, andsopeckish. What does he mean by that?”“Peckish, my dear, is hungry,” explained Robin, as they went into the cave together.They found that Johnson was not only peckish but curious, and thirsting for information as well as meat and drink. As his pulse was pronounced by Dr Shipton to be all right, he was gratified with a hearty supper, a long pull at the tankard of sparkling water, and a good deal of information and small-talk about the pirates, the wreck of the Triton, and the science of electricity.“But you have not told us yet,” said Sam, “how it was that you came to fail into the hands of the pirates.”“I can soon tell ’ee that,” said the seaman, turning slowly on his couch.“Lie still, now, you must not move,” said Sam, remonstratively.“But that not movin’, doctor, is wuss than downright pain, by a long way. Hows’ever, I s’pose I must obey orders—anyhow you’ve got the whip hand o’ me just now. Well, as I was sayin’, the yarn ain’t a long ’un. I sailed from the port o’ Lun’on in a tea-clipper, of which I was the cook; got out to Hong-Kong all right, shipped a cargo, and off again for old England. We hadn’t got far when a most horrible gale blew us far out of our course. When it fell calm, soon arter, we was boarded by a pirate. Our captain fought like a hero, but it warn’t of no use. They was too many for us; most of my shipmates was killed, and I was knocked flat on the deck from behind with a hand-spike. On recoverin’, I found myself in the ship’s hold, bound hand and futt, among a lot of unfortunits like myself, most of ’em bein’ Chinese and Malays. The reptiles untied my hands and set me to an oar. They thrashed us all unmercifully to make us work hard, and killed the weak ones to be rid of ’em. At last we came to an anchor, as I knew by the rattlin’ o’ the cables, though, bein’ below, I couldn’t see where we was. Then I heard the boats got out, an’ all the crew went ashore, as I guessed, except the guard left to watch us.“That night I dreamed a deal about bein’ free, an’ about former voyages—specially one when I was wrecked in the Atlantic, an’ our good ship, the Seahorse, went down in latitude—”“The Seahorse!” echoed Robin, with an earnest look at the sailor; “was she an emigrant ship?”“Ay, that’s just what she was.”“Was she lost in the year 1850?” continued Robin, with increasing excitement.“Jus’ so, my lad.”“And you were cook?”“You’ve hit the nail fair on the head,” replied the sailor, with a look of surprise.“Well, now, thatismost remarkable,” said Robin, “for I was born on board of that very ship.”“Youdon’tmean it,” said Johnson, looking eagerly at our hero. “Was you really the babby as was born to that poor miserable sea-sick gentleman, Mr Wright—you’ll excuse my sayin’ so—in the middle of a thunder-clap an’ a flash o’ lightnin’ as would have split our main-mast an’ sent us to the bottom, along wi’ the ship, if it hadn’t bin for the noo lightnin’ conductor that Mr Harris, the inventor, indooced our skipper to put up!”“Yes, I am that very baby,” said Robin, “and although, of course, I remember nothing about the thunder and lightning, or anything else. My father and mother have often told me all about it, and the wonderful deliverance which God mercifully sent when all hope had been given up. And many a time did they speak of you, Johnson, as a right good fellow and a splendid cook.”“Much obleedged to ’em,” said Johnson, “an’ are they both alive?”“They were both alive and well when I left England.”“Come now, thisispleasant, to meet an old shipmate in such pecooliar circumstances,” said the sailor, extending his hand, which Robin shook warmly; “quite as good as a play, ain’t it?”“Ay,” observed Jim Slagg, who with the others had witnessed this meeting with deep interest, “an’ the babby has kep’ the lighten’ goin’ ever since, though he’s dropped the thunder, for he’s an electrician no less—a manufacturer of lightnin’ an’ a director of it too.”The sailor wass good deal puzzled by this remark, but when its purport was explained to him, he gave vent to a vigorous chuckle, notwithstanding Sam’s stern order to “lie still.”“Didn’t I say so?” he exclaimed. “Didn’t I say distinctly, that night, to the stooard—Thomson was his name—‘Stooard,’ said I, ‘that there babby what has just bin born will make his mark some’ow an’ somew’eres.’”“Well, but I have not made my mark yet,” said Robin, laughing, “so you’re not a true prophet, at least time has not yet proved your title.”“Not yet proved it!” cried Johnson with vehemence, “why, how much proof do you want? Here you are, not much more than a babby yet—any’ow hardly a man—and, besides havin’ bin born in thunder, lightnin’, wind, an’ rain, you’ve laid the Atlantic Cable, you’ve took up lightnin’ as a profession—or a plaything,—you’ve helped to save the life of John Johnson, an’ you’ve got comfortably located in a pirate’s island! If you on’y go on as you’ve begun, you’ll make your mark so deep that it’ll never be rubbed out to the end of time. A prophet, indeed! Why, I’m shuperior to Mahomet, an’ beat Nebuchadnezzar all to sticks.”“But you haven’t finished your story, Johnson,” said Jim Slagg.“That’s true—where was I? Ah, dreamin’ in the hold of the pirate-ship. Well, I woke up with a start all of a suddent, bent on doin’ suthin’, I scarce knew what, but I wriggled away at the rope that bound me till I got my hands free; then I freed my legs; then I loosed some o’ the boldest fellows among the slaves, and got handspikes and bits o’ wood to arm ’em with. They was clever enough to understand signs, an’ I couldn’t speak to ’em, not knowin’ their lingo, but I signed to ’em to keep quiet as mice. Then I crep’ to the powder-magazine, which the reckless reptiles fastened very carelessly, and got a bit paper and made a slow match by rubbin’ some wet powder on it, and laid it all handy, for I was determined to escape and put an end to their doin’s all at once. My plan was to attack and overpower the guard, free and arm all the slaves, blow up the ship, escape on shore, an’ have a pitched battle with the pirate crew. Unfortunately there was a white-livered traitor among us—a sort o’ half-an’-half slave—very likely he was a spy. Anyhow, when he saw what I was about, he slipped over the side and swam quietly ashore. Why he didn’t alarm the guards I don’t know—p’r’aps he thought we might be too many for ’em, and that if we conquered he stood but a small chance. Anyhow he escaped the sharks, and warned the crew in good time, for we was in the very middle of the scrimmage when they suddintly turned up, as you saw, an’ got the better of us. Hows’ever I managed to bolt below and fire the slow match, before they saw what I was after. Then I turned and fought my way on deck again, so that they didn’t find out. And when they was about to throw me overboard, the thought of the surprise in store for ’em indooced me to give vent to a hearty cheer. It warn’t a right state o’ mind, I confess, and I was properly punished, for, instead o’ killin’ me off quick an’ comfortable, they tied me hand and futt, took me below, an’ laid me not two yards from the slowly burnin’ match. I felt raither unhappy, I assure you; an’ the reptiles never noticed the match because o’ the smoke o’ the scrimmage. I do believe it was being so near it as saved me, for when the crash came, I was lifted bodily wi’ the planks on which I lay, and, comin’ down from the sky, as it appeared to me, I went clean into the sea without damage, except the breakin’ o’ one o’ the ropes, which, fortunately, set my right arm free.”“Come now, Johnson, you must go to sleep after that,” said Sam. “You’re exciting yourself too much; remember that I am your doctor, and obedience is the first law of nature—when one is out of health.”“Very good, sir,” returned the seaman; “but before I turn over Mr Wright must read me a few verses out o’ that bible his mother gave him.”“Why, how do you know that my mother gave me a bible?” asked Robin in great surprise.“Didn’t I know your mother?” replied the sailor with a flush of enthusiasm; “an’ don’t I know that she would sooner have let you go to sea without her blessing than without the Word of God? She was the first human bein’ as ever spoke to me about my miserable soul, and the love of God in sendin’ His Son to save it. Many a one has asked me about my health, and warned me to fly from drink, and offered to help me on in life, but she was the first that ever asked after my soul, or tried to impress on me that Eternity and its affairs were of more importance than Time. I didn’t say much at the time, but the seed that your mother planted nigh twenty years ago has bin watered, thank God an’ kep’ alive ever since.”There was a tone of seriousness and gratitude in this off-hand seaman’s manner, while speaking of his mother, which touched Robin deeply. Without a moment’s hesitation he pulled out his bible and read a chapter in the Gospel of John.“Now you’ll pray,” said the sailor, to Robin’s surprise and embarrassment, for he had never prayed in public before, though accustomed from a child to make known his wants to God night and morning.But our hero was morally as well as physically courageous—as every hero should be! He knelt at once by the sailor’s couch, while the others followed his example, and, in a few simple sentences, asked for pardon, blessing, help, and guidance in the name of Jesus Christ.Thus peculiarly was bible-reading and family worship established on the pirates’ island in the year eighteen hundred and sixty-eight.

Next morning Sam Shipton awoke from a sound and dreamless slumber. Raising himself on the soft ottoman, or Eastern couch, on which he had spent the night, he looked round in a state of sleepy wonder, unable at first to remember where he was. Gradually he recalled the circumstances and events of the preceding day.

The forms of his companions lay on couches similar to his own in attitudes of repose, and the seaman still slept profoundly in the position in which he had been laid down when brought in.

Through the mouth of the cavern Sam could see the little garden, glowing like an emerald in the beams of the rising sun, and amongst the bushes he observed the old couple stooping quietly over their labour of gathering weeds. The warm air, the bright sunshine, and the soft cries of distant sea-birds, induced Sam to slip into such of his garments as he had put off, and go out quietly without rousing his companions.

In a few minutes he stood on the summit of the islet and saw the wide ocean surrounding him, like a vast sparkling plain, its myriad wavelets reflecting now the dazzling sun, now the azure vault, the commingling yellow and blue of which resulted in a lovely transparent green, save where a few puffs of wind swept over the great expanse and streaked it with lines of darkest blue.

“Truly,” murmured Sam, as he gazed in admiration at the glorious expanse of sea and sky, “Robin is right when he says that we are not half sufficiently impressed with the goodness of the Almighty in placing us in the midst of such a splendid world, with capacity to appreciate and enjoy it to the full. I begin to fear that I am a more ungrateful fellow than I’ve been used to think.”

For some time he continued to gaze in silence as if that thought were working.

From his elevated position he could now see that the islet was not quite so barren as at first he had been led to suppose. Several little valleys and cup-like hollows lay nestling among the otherwise barren hills, like lovely gems in a rough setting. Those, he now perceived, must have been invisible from the sea, and the rugged, almost perpendicular, cliffs in their neighbourhood had apparently prevented men from landing and discovering their existence. One of the valleys, in particular, was not only larger than the others, but exceptionally rich in vegetation, besides having a miniature lake, like a diamond, in its bosom.

Descending the hill and returning to the cave, Sam found his comrades still asleep. Letta was assisting old Meerta in the preparation of a substantial breakfast that would not have done discredit to a first-class hotel.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come!” said Letta, running up, to him and giving him both hands to shake, and a ready little mouth to kiss, “for I didn’t like to awaken your friends, and the sailor one looks so still that I fear he may be dying. I saw one of the naughty men die here, and he looked just like that.”

Somewhat alarmed by this, Sam went at once to the sailor and looked earnestly at him.

“No fear, Letta,” he said, “the poor fellow is not dying; he is only in a very profound sleep, having been much exhausted and nearly killed yesterday. Hallo, Robin! awake at last?”

Robin, who had been roused by the voices, rubbed his eyes, yawned vociferously, and looked vacantly round.

“Well, now, that’s most extraordinary; it isn’t a dream after all!”

“It’s an uncommon pleasant dream, if it is one,” remarked Jim Slagg, with a grave stare at Robin, as he sat up on his couch. “I never in all my born days dreamt such a sweet smell of coffee and fried sausages. Why, the old ’ooman’s a-bringin’ of ’em in, I do declare. Pinch me, Stumps, to see if I’m awake!”

As Stumps was still asleep, Slagg himself resorted to the method referred to, and roused his comrade. In a few minutes they were all seated at breakfast with the exception of the sailor, whom it was thought best to leave to his repose until nature should whisper in his ear.

“Well now,” said Slagg, pausing to rest for a few seconds, “if wehada submarine cable ’tween this and England, and we was to give ’em an account of all we’ve seen an’ bin doin’, they’d never believe it.”

“Cer’nly not. They’d say it wos all a passel o’ lies,” remarked Stumps; “but I say, Mr Sam—”

“Come now, Stumps, don’t ‘Mister’ me any more.”

“Well, I won’t do it any more, though ’tain’t easy to change one’s ’abits. But how is it, sir, that that there electricity works? That’s what I wants to know. Does the words run along the cable,—or ’ow?”

“Of course they do, Stumpy,” interrupted Slagg, “they run along the cable like a lot o’ little tightrope dancers, an’ when they come to the end o’t they jumps off an’ ranges ’temselves in a row. Sometimes, in coorse, they spells wrong, like bad schoolboys, and then they’ve to be walloped an’ set right.”

“Hold your noise, Slagg, an’ let your betters speak,” returned Stumps.

“Well, if they don’t exactly do that,” said Sam Shipton, “there are people who think they can do things even more difficult. I remember once, when I was clerk at a country railroad station and had to work the telegraph, an old woman came into the ticket office in a state of wild despair. She was about the size and shape of Meerta there, but with about an inch and a half more nose, and two or three ounces less brain.

“‘What’s wrong, madam?’ I asked, feeling quite sorry for the poor old thing.

“‘Oh! sir,’ said she, clasping her hands, ‘I’ve bin an’ left my passel,—a brown paper one it was,—on the seat at the last station, an’ there was a babby’s muffler in it—the sweetest thing as ever was—an’ f–fi’ pun t–ten, on’y one sh–shillin’ was b–bad—boo-hoo!’

“She broke down entirely at this point, so, said I, ‘Madam, make your mind quite easy, sit down, and I’ll telegraph at once,’ so I telegraphed, and got a reply back immediately that the parcel had been found all right, and would be sent on as soon as possible. I told this to the old lady, who seemed quite pleased, and went on to the platform to wait.

“I was pretty busy for the next quarter of an hour, for it was market day at the next town, but I noticed through the window that the old lady was standing on the platform, gazing steadily up at the sky.

“‘Broxley—third class,’ said a big farmer at that moment, with a head like one of his own turnips.

“I gave him his ticket, and for five minutes more I was kept pretty busy, when up came the train; in got the struggling crowd; whew! went the whistle, and away went the whole affair, leaving no one on the platform but the porter, and the old woman still staring up at the sky.

“‘What’s the matter, madam?’ I asked.

“‘Matter!’ she exclaimed, ‘a pretty telegraphyoursis to be sure! wuss than the old carrier by a long way. Here ’ave I bin standin’ for full ’alf-an-hour with my neck nigh broke, and there’s no sign of it yet.’

“‘No sign of what, madam?’

“‘Of my brown paper passel, to be sure. Didn’t you tell me, young man, that they said they’d send it by telegraph as soon as possible?’

“‘No, madam,’ I replied, ‘I told you they had telegraphed to say they would send it on as soon as possible—meaning, of course, by rail, for we have not yet discovered the method of sending parcels by telegraph—though, no doubt, we shall in course of time. If you’ll give me your address I’ll send the parcel to you.’

“‘Thank you, young man. Do,’ she said, giving me an old envelope with her name on it. ‘Be sure you do. I don’t mind the money much, but I couldn’t a-bear to lose that muffler. It wassucha sweet thing, turned up with yaller, and a present too, which it isn’t many of ’em comes my way.’

“So you see, Stumps, some people have queer notions about the powers of the telegraph.”

“But did the old lady get the parcel all right?” asked Stumps, who was a sympathetic soul.

“Of course she did, and came over to the station next day to thank me, and offer me the bad shilling by way of reward. Of course I declined it with many expressions of gratitude.”

While they were thus adding intellectual sauce to the material feast of breakfast, the rescued sailor awoke from his prolonged sleep, and stretched himself.

He was a huge, thick-set man, with a benign expression of countenance, but that phase of his character was somewhat concealed at the time by two black eyes, a swollen nose, a cut lip, and a torn cheek. Poor fellow, he had suffered severely at the hands of the pirates, and suddenly checked the stretch in which he was indulging with a sharp groan, or growl, as he sat up and pressed his hand to his side.

“Why, what’s the matter with me, an’ where am I?” he exclaimed, gazing round the cave, while a look of wonder gradually displaced the expression of pain.

“You’re all right—rescued from the pirates at all events,” answered Sam Shipton, rising from table and sitting down beside the seaman’s couch.

“Thank God for that!” said the man earnestly, though with a troubled look; “but how did I escape—where are the rascals?—what—”

“There, now, don’t excite yourself, my man; you’re not quite yourself in body. Come, let me feel your pulse. Ah, slightly feverish—no wonder—I’ll tell you all about it soon, but at present you must be content merely to know that you are safe in the hands of friends, that you are in the pirates’ cave, and that the pirates and their vessel are now at the bottom of the sea.”

“That’s hardly c’rect, Mr Shipton,” murmured Slagg; “I would have said they was blow’d to hatoms.”

The seaman turned and looked at the speaker with what would have been a twinkle if his swelled visage would have permitted, but the effort produced another spasm of pain.

“I must examine you, friend,” said Sam; “you have been severely handled. Help me to strip him, Robin.”

The poor man at once submitted.

“You’re a doctor, sir, I suppose?” he asked.

“No,” said Sam, “only an amateur; nevertheless I know what I’m about. You see, I think that every man in the world, whatever his station or profession, should be at least slightly acquainted with every subject under the sun in connection with which he may be called on to act. In other words, he should know at least a little about surgery, and physic, and law, and carpentering, blacksmithing, building, cooking, riding, swimming, and—hallo! why, two of your ribs are broken, my man!”

“Sorry to hear it, sir, but not surprised, for I feels as if two or three o’ my spines was broken also, and five or six o’ my lungs bu’sted. You won’t be able to mend ’em, I fear.”

“Oh, yes, I shall,” said Sam cheerily.

“Ah! that’s well. I’d thowt that p’r’aps you wouldn’t have the tools ’andy in these parts for splicin’ of ’em.”

“Fortunately no tools are required,” returned Sam. “I’ll soon put you right, but you’ll have to lie still for some time. Here, Robin, go into the store-cave and fetch me a few yards of that white cotton, you remember, near the door. And, I say, mind you keep well clear of the powder.”

When the cotton was brought, Sam tore it up into long strips, which he wound somewhat tightly round the sailor’s huge chest.

“You see,” he observed, as he applied the bandages, “broken ribs are not necessarily displaced, but the action of breathing separates the ends of them continually, so that they can’t get a chance of re-uniting. All we have to do, therefore, is to prevent your taking a full breath, and this is accomplished by tying you up tight—so. Now, you can’t breathe fully even if you would, and I’d recommend you not to try. By the way—what’s your name?”

“Johnson, sir,—John Johnson.”

“Well, Johnson, I’ll give you something to eat and drink now, after which you’ll have another sleep. To-morrow we’ll have a chat on things in general.”

“I say,” asked Robin that night, as he and Sam stood star-gazing together beside a small fire which had been kindled outside the cavern-mouth for cooking purposes, “is it true that you have studied all the subjects you mentioned to Johnson this morning?”

“Quite true. I have not indeed studied them long or profoundly, but I have acquired sufficient knowledge of each to enable me to take intelligent action, as I did this morning, instead of standing helplessly by, or, what might be worse, making a blind attempt to do something on the chance that it might be the right thing, as once happened to myself when a bungling ignoramus gave me a glass of brandy to cure what he called mulligrumps, but what in truth turned out to be inflammation.”

“But what think you of the saying that ‘a little knowledge is a dangerous thing,’ Sam.”

“I think that, like most of the world’s maxims, it is only partially, or relatively, true. If Little Knowledge claims the position and attempts to act the part of Great Knowledge, it becomes dangerous indeed; but if Little Knowledge walks modestly, and only takes action when none but Ignorance stands by, it is, in my opinion, neither dangerous nor liable to be destructive.”

While they were speaking, little Letta came out of the cavern and ran towards them.

“It is like a dream of the Arabian Nights to meet such a little angel here,” murmured Robin; “what a dreadful blow the loss of her must have been to her poor mother!”

“O! come to Johnson, please,” she said, taking Sam by the hand with a very trustful look and manner.

“Why; he’s not worse, is he?”

“O no! he has just awakened, and says he isverymuch better, andsopeckish. What does he mean by that?”

“Peckish, my dear, is hungry,” explained Robin, as they went into the cave together.

They found that Johnson was not only peckish but curious, and thirsting for information as well as meat and drink. As his pulse was pronounced by Dr Shipton to be all right, he was gratified with a hearty supper, a long pull at the tankard of sparkling water, and a good deal of information and small-talk about the pirates, the wreck of the Triton, and the science of electricity.

“But you have not told us yet,” said Sam, “how it was that you came to fail into the hands of the pirates.”

“I can soon tell ’ee that,” said the seaman, turning slowly on his couch.

“Lie still, now, you must not move,” said Sam, remonstratively.

“But that not movin’, doctor, is wuss than downright pain, by a long way. Hows’ever, I s’pose I must obey orders—anyhow you’ve got the whip hand o’ me just now. Well, as I was sayin’, the yarn ain’t a long ’un. I sailed from the port o’ Lun’on in a tea-clipper, of which I was the cook; got out to Hong-Kong all right, shipped a cargo, and off again for old England. We hadn’t got far when a most horrible gale blew us far out of our course. When it fell calm, soon arter, we was boarded by a pirate. Our captain fought like a hero, but it warn’t of no use. They was too many for us; most of my shipmates was killed, and I was knocked flat on the deck from behind with a hand-spike. On recoverin’, I found myself in the ship’s hold, bound hand and futt, among a lot of unfortunits like myself, most of ’em bein’ Chinese and Malays. The reptiles untied my hands and set me to an oar. They thrashed us all unmercifully to make us work hard, and killed the weak ones to be rid of ’em. At last we came to an anchor, as I knew by the rattlin’ o’ the cables, though, bein’ below, I couldn’t see where we was. Then I heard the boats got out, an’ all the crew went ashore, as I guessed, except the guard left to watch us.

“That night I dreamed a deal about bein’ free, an’ about former voyages—specially one when I was wrecked in the Atlantic, an’ our good ship, the Seahorse, went down in latitude—”

“The Seahorse!” echoed Robin, with an earnest look at the sailor; “was she an emigrant ship?”

“Ay, that’s just what she was.”

“Was she lost in the year 1850?” continued Robin, with increasing excitement.

“Jus’ so, my lad.”

“And you were cook?”

“You’ve hit the nail fair on the head,” replied the sailor, with a look of surprise.

“Well, now, thatismost remarkable,” said Robin, “for I was born on board of that very ship.”

“Youdon’tmean it,” said Johnson, looking eagerly at our hero. “Was you really the babby as was born to that poor miserable sea-sick gentleman, Mr Wright—you’ll excuse my sayin’ so—in the middle of a thunder-clap an’ a flash o’ lightnin’ as would have split our main-mast an’ sent us to the bottom, along wi’ the ship, if it hadn’t bin for the noo lightnin’ conductor that Mr Harris, the inventor, indooced our skipper to put up!”

“Yes, I am that very baby,” said Robin, “and although, of course, I remember nothing about the thunder and lightning, or anything else. My father and mother have often told me all about it, and the wonderful deliverance which God mercifully sent when all hope had been given up. And many a time did they speak of you, Johnson, as a right good fellow and a splendid cook.”

“Much obleedged to ’em,” said Johnson, “an’ are they both alive?”

“They were both alive and well when I left England.”

“Come now, thisispleasant, to meet an old shipmate in such pecooliar circumstances,” said the sailor, extending his hand, which Robin shook warmly; “quite as good as a play, ain’t it?”

“Ay,” observed Jim Slagg, who with the others had witnessed this meeting with deep interest, “an’ the babby has kep’ the lighten’ goin’ ever since, though he’s dropped the thunder, for he’s an electrician no less—a manufacturer of lightnin’ an’ a director of it too.”

The sailor wass good deal puzzled by this remark, but when its purport was explained to him, he gave vent to a vigorous chuckle, notwithstanding Sam’s stern order to “lie still.”

“Didn’t I say so?” he exclaimed. “Didn’t I say distinctly, that night, to the stooard—Thomson was his name—‘Stooard,’ said I, ‘that there babby what has just bin born will make his mark some’ow an’ somew’eres.’”

“Well, but I have not made my mark yet,” said Robin, laughing, “so you’re not a true prophet, at least time has not yet proved your title.”

“Not yet proved it!” cried Johnson with vehemence, “why, how much proof do you want? Here you are, not much more than a babby yet—any’ow hardly a man—and, besides havin’ bin born in thunder, lightnin’, wind, an’ rain, you’ve laid the Atlantic Cable, you’ve took up lightnin’ as a profession—or a plaything,—you’ve helped to save the life of John Johnson, an’ you’ve got comfortably located in a pirate’s island! If you on’y go on as you’ve begun, you’ll make your mark so deep that it’ll never be rubbed out to the end of time. A prophet, indeed! Why, I’m shuperior to Mahomet, an’ beat Nebuchadnezzar all to sticks.”

“But you haven’t finished your story, Johnson,” said Jim Slagg.

“That’s true—where was I? Ah, dreamin’ in the hold of the pirate-ship. Well, I woke up with a start all of a suddent, bent on doin’ suthin’, I scarce knew what, but I wriggled away at the rope that bound me till I got my hands free; then I freed my legs; then I loosed some o’ the boldest fellows among the slaves, and got handspikes and bits o’ wood to arm ’em with. They was clever enough to understand signs, an’ I couldn’t speak to ’em, not knowin’ their lingo, but I signed to ’em to keep quiet as mice. Then I crep’ to the powder-magazine, which the reckless reptiles fastened very carelessly, and got a bit paper and made a slow match by rubbin’ some wet powder on it, and laid it all handy, for I was determined to escape and put an end to their doin’s all at once. My plan was to attack and overpower the guard, free and arm all the slaves, blow up the ship, escape on shore, an’ have a pitched battle with the pirate crew. Unfortunately there was a white-livered traitor among us—a sort o’ half-an’-half slave—very likely he was a spy. Anyhow, when he saw what I was about, he slipped over the side and swam quietly ashore. Why he didn’t alarm the guards I don’t know—p’r’aps he thought we might be too many for ’em, and that if we conquered he stood but a small chance. Anyhow he escaped the sharks, and warned the crew in good time, for we was in the very middle of the scrimmage when they suddintly turned up, as you saw, an’ got the better of us. Hows’ever I managed to bolt below and fire the slow match, before they saw what I was after. Then I turned and fought my way on deck again, so that they didn’t find out. And when they was about to throw me overboard, the thought of the surprise in store for ’em indooced me to give vent to a hearty cheer. It warn’t a right state o’ mind, I confess, and I was properly punished, for, instead o’ killin’ me off quick an’ comfortable, they tied me hand and futt, took me below, an’ laid me not two yards from the slowly burnin’ match. I felt raither unhappy, I assure you; an’ the reptiles never noticed the match because o’ the smoke o’ the scrimmage. I do believe it was being so near it as saved me, for when the crash came, I was lifted bodily wi’ the planks on which I lay, and, comin’ down from the sky, as it appeared to me, I went clean into the sea without damage, except the breakin’ o’ one o’ the ropes, which, fortunately, set my right arm free.”

“Come now, Johnson, you must go to sleep after that,” said Sam. “You’re exciting yourself too much; remember that I am your doctor, and obedience is the first law of nature—when one is out of health.”

“Very good, sir,” returned the seaman; “but before I turn over Mr Wright must read me a few verses out o’ that bible his mother gave him.”

“Why, how do you know that my mother gave me a bible?” asked Robin in great surprise.

“Didn’t I know your mother?” replied the sailor with a flush of enthusiasm; “an’ don’t I know that she would sooner have let you go to sea without her blessing than without the Word of God? She was the first human bein’ as ever spoke to me about my miserable soul, and the love of God in sendin’ His Son to save it. Many a one has asked me about my health, and warned me to fly from drink, and offered to help me on in life, but she was the first that ever asked after my soul, or tried to impress on me that Eternity and its affairs were of more importance than Time. I didn’t say much at the time, but the seed that your mother planted nigh twenty years ago has bin watered, thank God an’ kep’ alive ever since.”

There was a tone of seriousness and gratitude in this off-hand seaman’s manner, while speaking of his mother, which touched Robin deeply. Without a moment’s hesitation he pulled out his bible and read a chapter in the Gospel of John.

“Now you’ll pray,” said the sailor, to Robin’s surprise and embarrassment, for he had never prayed in public before, though accustomed from a child to make known his wants to God night and morning.

But our hero was morally as well as physically courageous—as every hero should be! He knelt at once by the sailor’s couch, while the others followed his example, and, in a few simple sentences, asked for pardon, blessing, help, and guidance in the name of Jesus Christ.

Thus peculiarly was bible-reading and family worship established on the pirates’ island in the year eighteen hundred and sixty-eight.

Chapter Nineteen.An Exploration and an Accident.For the first few days of their stay on what they styled Pirate Island, our castaways were too much taken up with the wondrous and varied contents of the robbers’ cave, and the information Meerta and Letta had to give, to pay much regard to the island itself, or the prospect they had of quitting it. But when their interest and curiosity began to abate, and the excitement to decrease, they naturally bethought them of the nature and resources of their now home.Of course they did not for a moment regard it in the light ofhome. It was merely a resting-place,—a refuge, where, after their escape from the sea, they should spend a few weeks, perhaps months, until a passing vessel should take them off. They did not know, at that time, that the islet was far removed from the usual track of ships, and that, like the Pitcairn Islanders, they might be doomed to spend many years, perchance a lifetime, on it. Indeed, a considerable time elapsed before they would admit to themselves that there was a possibility of such a fate, although they knew, both from Meerta and Letta, that no ship of any kind, save that of the pirates, had been seen for the last eighteen months, and the few sails that did chance to appear, were merely seen for a few hours like sea-gulls on the horizon, from which they arose and into which they vanished.Having then, as we have said, bethought them of examining the resources and nature of the island, they one morning organised an expedition. By that time the sailor, although by no means fit for it, insisted that he was sufficiently restored to accompany them. Letta, who was active and strong like a small gazelle, besides being acquainted with the whole region, agreed to act as guide. Stumps, having sprained his ankle slightly, remained at the cave, for the purpose, as he said, of helping Meerta with the garden, but Jim Slagg gave him credit for laziness.“You see,” said Sam Shipton, as Letta led them down the rugged mountain-side, “we may as well make ourselves comfortable while we remain here, and I’m inclined to think that a hut, however rough, down in one of these charming valleys, will be more agreeable than the gloomy cavern on the mountain-top.”“Not so sure o’ that, doctor,” said Johnson; “the cave is at all events dry, and a good stronghold in case of a visit from pirates.”“But pirates what have bin blow’d to atoms,” said Slagg, “ain’t likely to turn up again, are they?”“That’s so, lad; but some of their friends might pay us a visit, you know.”“I think not,” rejoined Sam; “there is honour among thieves here, no doubt, as elsewhere. I daresay it is well-known among the fraternity that the island belongs to a certain set, and the rest will therefore let it alone. What think you, Robin?”“I’m inclined to agree with you, Sam, but perhaps Letta is the best authority on that point. Did you ever see any other set of pirates land here, little one, except your—your own set?”“Only once,” answered the child, “another set came, but they only stayed one day. They looked at everything, looked at me an’ Meerta an’ laughed very much. An’ they ate and drank a good deal, and fought a little; but they took nothing away, and never came back.”“I thought so,” rejoined Sam; “now, all we’ve got to do is to hoist a flag on the highest peak of the mountain, and when a vessel comes to take us off, load her with as much of the booty as she can carry—and then, hurrah for old England!”“Hooray!” echoed Jim Slagg, “them’s exactly my sentiments.”“But the booty is not ours to take,” objected Robin.“Whose is it, then?” asked Sam; “the rightful owners we don’t know, and the wrongful owners are defunct.”“I tell ’ee what it is, mates,” said Johnson, “the whole o’ the booty is mine, ’cause why? it was me as blowed up the owners, so I’m entitled to it by conquest, an’ you needn’t go to fightin’ over it. If you behave yourselves, I’ll divide it equally among us, share an’ share alike.”“It seems to me, Johnson,” said Robin, “that in strict justice the booty belongs to Letta, Meerta, and blind Bungo, as the natural heirs o’ the pirates.”“But they’re not the heirs, they are part of the booty,” said the seaman, “and, as sitch, falls to be divided among us.”“If that’s so,” said Slagg, “then I claim Letta for my share, and you, Johnson, can have your pick of Meerta and blind Bungo.”“Nay, Letta is mine, because I was the first to discover her,” said Robin. “Whom will you go with, Letta?”“With you, of course,” replied the child quite earnestly. “Haven’t you promised to take me back to mamma?”“Indeed I have, little one, and if I ever get the chance, assuredly I will,” said Robin, with equal earnestness.“I say, doctor,” said Johnson to Sam, sitting down on a mossy bank, “I’ll stop here and wait for you. That rib ain’t all square yet.”“Wilful man,” said Sam, “didn’t I advise you not to come? There, lie down and take it easy. We’ll bring you some fruit on our return.”By this time the party had reached the valley in which the lakelet lay, and beautiful indeed was the scene which presented itself as they passed under the grateful shade of the palm-trees. Everywhere, rich tropical vegetation met their gaze, through the openings in which the sunshine poured like streams of fire. On the little lake numerous flocks of ducks and other fowl were seen swimming in sportive mood, while an occasional splash told of fish of some sort below the surface.Leaving the sailor in a position whence he could observe them for a long distance, the rest of the party pushed on. During their rambles they found the valley to be much richer in vegetation, and more beautiful, than the distant view from the mountain-top had led them to expect. Small though the valley was, it contained, among other trees, the cocoa-nut palm, the bread-fruit, banana, and sandal-wood. There were also pine-apples, wild rice, and custard-apples, some of which latter delicious fruit, being ripe, was gathered and carried back to Johnson, whom they found sound asleep and much refreshed on their return.The expedition proved that, barren though the island appeared from the sea, it contained quite enough of the good things of this life to render it a desirable abode for man.On the coast, too, where the raft had been cast ashore, were discovered a variety of shell-fish, some of which, especially the oysters, were found to be excellent food. And some of the sea-fowl turned out to be very good eating, though a little fishy, while their eggs were as good as those of the domestic fowl.“It seems to me,” said Robin to Letta one day when they were out on a ramble together, “that this is quite a little paradise.”“I don’t know what paradise is like,” said the child.“Well, no more do I,” returned Robin, with a laugh, “but of course everybody understands that it is the place where everything is perfect, and where happiness is complete.”“It cannot be like paradise without mamma,” said Letta, shaking her pretty head sadly. “I would not go to heaven unless mamma was there.”Robin was silent for some time, as he thought of his own mother and the talks he used to have with her on this same subject.“Letta,” he said at length, earnestly, “Jesus will be in heaven. It was His Spirit who taught you to love mamma—as you do, so you are sure to meet her there with Him.”“Nobodytaughtme to love mamma,” returned the child quietly; “I couldn’t help it.”“True, little one, but it was God who made you to—‘couldn’t help it.’”Letta was puzzled by this reply. She raised her bright eyes inquiringly into Robin’s honest face, and said, “But you’ve promised to take me to her, you know.”“Yes, dear little one, but you must not misunderstand me,” replied the youth somewhat sadly. “I promise that, God helping me, I will do the best I can to find out where your mother is; but you must remember that I have very little to go on. I don’t even know your mother’s name, or the place where you were taken from. By the way, an idea has just occurred to me. Have you any clothes at the cave?”“Of course I have,” answered Letta, with a merry laugh.“Yes; but I mean the clothes that you had on when you first came here.”“I don’t know; Meerta knows. Why?”“Because your name may be marked on them. Come, let us go back at once and see. Besides, we are wasting time, for you know I was sent out to shoot some ducks for dinner.”Rising as he spoke, Robin shouldered the shotgun which had been supplied from the robbers’ armoury, and, descending with his little companion towards the lake, soon began to stalk the birds as carefully as if he had been trained to the work by a Red Indian. Stooping low, he glided swiftly through the bushes, until he came within a hundred yards of the margin of the lakelet, where a group of some thirty or forty fat ducks were feeding. Letta had fallen behind, and sat down to watch.The distance being too great for a shot, and the bushes beyond the spot which he had reached being too thin to conceal him, Robin lay flat down, and began to advance through the long grass after the fashion of a snake, pushing his gun before him. It was a slow and tedious process, but Robin’s spirit was patient and persevering. He screwed himself, as it were, to within sixty yards of the flock, and then fired both barrels almost simultaneously. Seven dead birds remained behind when the affrighted flock took wing.“It is not very scientific shooting,” said Robin, apologetically, to his fair companion, as she assisted him to tie their legs together; “but our object just now is food, not sport.”On the way back to the cavern they had to pass over a narrow ledge, on one side of which a precipice descended towards the valley, while the other side rose upwards like a wall. It was not necessarily a dangerous place. They had passed it often before in safety, none of the party being troubled with giddiness; but at this time Robin had unfortunately hung his bundle of ducks on the side which had to brush past the rocky wall. As he passed, the bunch struck a projection and threw him off his balance. In the effort to recover himself he dislodged a piece of rock under his left foot, and, without even a cry, went headlong over the precipice!Poor Letta stood rooted to the spot, too horrified to scream. She saw her friend, on whom all her hopes were built, go crashing through the foliage immediately below the precipice edge, and disappear. It was the first terrible shock she had ever received. With a convulsive shudder she ran by a dangerously steep route towards the foot of the precipice.But Robin had not yet met his doom, although he had descended full sixty feet. His fall was broken by several leafy trees, through which he went like an avalanche; and a thick solid bush receiving him at the foot, checked his descent entirely, and slid him quietly off its boughs on to the grass, where he lay, stunned, indeed, but otherwise uninjured.Poor Letta of course was horrified, on reaching the spot, to find that Robin could not speak, and was to all appearance dead. In an agony of terror she shrieked, and shook him and called him by name—to awaken him, as she afterwards said; but Robin’s sleep was too deep at that moment to be dispelled by such measures. Letta therefore sprang up and ran as fast as she could to the cavern to tell the terrible news and fetch assistance.Robin, however, was not left entirely alone in his extremity. It so chanced that a remarkably small monkey was seated among the boughs of a neighbouring tree, eating a morsel of fruit, when Letta’s first scream sounded through the grove. Cocking up one ear, it arrested its little hand on the way to its lesser mouth, and listened. Its little black face was corrugated with the wrinkles of care—it might be of fun, we cannot tell. The only large features of the creature were its eyes, and these seemed to blaze, while the brows rose high, as if in surprise.On hearing the second scream the small monkey laid hold of a bough with its tail, swung itself off, and caught another with its feet, sprang twenty feet, more or less, to the ground, which it reached on its hands, tumbled a somersault inadvertently, and went skipping over the ground at a great rate in the direction of the cries.When it reached the spot, however, Letta had fled, but Robin still lay motionless on his back. It was evident that the small monkey looked on the prostrate youth with alarm and suspicion, yet with an intense curiosity that no sense of danger could restrain. It walked slowly and inquiringly round him several times, each time drawing closer, while its crouched back and trailing tail betokened abject humility. Then it ventured to put out a small black hand and touch him, drawing it back again as if it had got an electric shock. Then it ventured to touch him again, with less alarm. After that it went close up, and gazed in his face.Familiarity, says the proverb, breeds contempt. The truth of proverbs can be verified by monkeys as well as men. Seeing that nothing came of its advances, that small monkey finally leaped on Robin’s chest, sat down thereon, and stared into his open mouth. Still the youth moved not, whereupon the monkey advanced a little and laid its paw upon his nose! Either the touch was more effective than Letta’s shaking, or time was bringing Robin round, for he felt his nose tickled, and gave way to a tremendous sneeze. It blew the monkey clean off its legs, and sent it shrieking into a neighbouring tree. As Robin still lay quiet, the monkey soon recovered, and returned to its former position, where, regardless of consequences, it again laid hold of the nose.This time consciousness returned. Robin opened his eyes with a stare of dreamy astonishment. The monkey replied with a stare of indignant surprise. Robin’s eyebrows rose still higher. So did those of the monkey as it leaped back a foot, and formed its mouth into a little O of remonstrance. Robin’s mouth expanded; he burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, and the monkey was again on the eve of flight, when voices were heard approaching, and, next instant, Letta came running forward, followed at some distance by Sam and the others.“Oh! my dear, sweet, exquisite darling!” exclaimed Letta.It did much for the poor youth’s recovery, the hearing himself addressed in such endearing terms, but he experienced a relapse when the monkey, responding to the endearments, ran with obvious joy into the child’s bosom, and submitted to a warm embrace.“Oh, you darling!” repeated Letta; “where have you been? why did you go away? I thought you were dead. Naughty thing!”Recollecting Robin with a shock of self-reproach, she dropped the monkey and ran to him.“It is an old friend, I see,” he said with a languid smile, as she came up.“Yes, yes; an old pet. I had lost him for a long time. But you’re not killed? Oh! I’msoglad.”“Killed!” repeated Sam, who was down on his knees carefully examining the patient; “I should think not. He’s not even bruised—only stunned a little. Where did you fall from, Robin—the tree top?”“No; from the edge of the precipice.”“What! from the ledge sixty or seventy feet up there? Impossible! You would certainly have been killed if you had fallen from that.”“So I certainly should,” returned Robin, “if God had not in his mercy grown trees and shrubs there, expressly, among other purposes, to save me.”In this reply Robin’s mind was running on previous conversations which he had had with his friend on predestination.The idea of shrubs and trees having been expressly grown on an island of the Southern Seas to save an English boy, seemed doubtful to Sam. He did not, however, express his doubts at the time, but reserved the subject for a future “theological discussion.”Meanwhile, Slagg, Stumps, and Johnson, having spread some palm branches on a couple of stout poles, laid our hero thereon, and bore him in safety to the pirates’ cave, where, for several days, he lay on one of the luxurious couches, tenderly nursed by Letta and the old woman, who, although she still pathetically maintained that the “roberts an pyrits wasn’t all so bad as each oder,” was quite willing to admit that her present visitors were preferable, and that, upon the whole, she was rather fond of them.

For the first few days of their stay on what they styled Pirate Island, our castaways were too much taken up with the wondrous and varied contents of the robbers’ cave, and the information Meerta and Letta had to give, to pay much regard to the island itself, or the prospect they had of quitting it. But when their interest and curiosity began to abate, and the excitement to decrease, they naturally bethought them of the nature and resources of their now home.

Of course they did not for a moment regard it in the light ofhome. It was merely a resting-place,—a refuge, where, after their escape from the sea, they should spend a few weeks, perhaps months, until a passing vessel should take them off. They did not know, at that time, that the islet was far removed from the usual track of ships, and that, like the Pitcairn Islanders, they might be doomed to spend many years, perchance a lifetime, on it. Indeed, a considerable time elapsed before they would admit to themselves that there was a possibility of such a fate, although they knew, both from Meerta and Letta, that no ship of any kind, save that of the pirates, had been seen for the last eighteen months, and the few sails that did chance to appear, were merely seen for a few hours like sea-gulls on the horizon, from which they arose and into which they vanished.

Having then, as we have said, bethought them of examining the resources and nature of the island, they one morning organised an expedition. By that time the sailor, although by no means fit for it, insisted that he was sufficiently restored to accompany them. Letta, who was active and strong like a small gazelle, besides being acquainted with the whole region, agreed to act as guide. Stumps, having sprained his ankle slightly, remained at the cave, for the purpose, as he said, of helping Meerta with the garden, but Jim Slagg gave him credit for laziness.

“You see,” said Sam Shipton, as Letta led them down the rugged mountain-side, “we may as well make ourselves comfortable while we remain here, and I’m inclined to think that a hut, however rough, down in one of these charming valleys, will be more agreeable than the gloomy cavern on the mountain-top.”

“Not so sure o’ that, doctor,” said Johnson; “the cave is at all events dry, and a good stronghold in case of a visit from pirates.”

“But pirates what have bin blow’d to atoms,” said Slagg, “ain’t likely to turn up again, are they?”

“That’s so, lad; but some of their friends might pay us a visit, you know.”

“I think not,” rejoined Sam; “there is honour among thieves here, no doubt, as elsewhere. I daresay it is well-known among the fraternity that the island belongs to a certain set, and the rest will therefore let it alone. What think you, Robin?”

“I’m inclined to agree with you, Sam, but perhaps Letta is the best authority on that point. Did you ever see any other set of pirates land here, little one, except your—your own set?”

“Only once,” answered the child, “another set came, but they only stayed one day. They looked at everything, looked at me an’ Meerta an’ laughed very much. An’ they ate and drank a good deal, and fought a little; but they took nothing away, and never came back.”

“I thought so,” rejoined Sam; “now, all we’ve got to do is to hoist a flag on the highest peak of the mountain, and when a vessel comes to take us off, load her with as much of the booty as she can carry—and then, hurrah for old England!”

“Hooray!” echoed Jim Slagg, “them’s exactly my sentiments.”

“But the booty is not ours to take,” objected Robin.

“Whose is it, then?” asked Sam; “the rightful owners we don’t know, and the wrongful owners are defunct.”

“I tell ’ee what it is, mates,” said Johnson, “the whole o’ the booty is mine, ’cause why? it was me as blowed up the owners, so I’m entitled to it by conquest, an’ you needn’t go to fightin’ over it. If you behave yourselves, I’ll divide it equally among us, share an’ share alike.”

“It seems to me, Johnson,” said Robin, “that in strict justice the booty belongs to Letta, Meerta, and blind Bungo, as the natural heirs o’ the pirates.”

“But they’re not the heirs, they are part of the booty,” said the seaman, “and, as sitch, falls to be divided among us.”

“If that’s so,” said Slagg, “then I claim Letta for my share, and you, Johnson, can have your pick of Meerta and blind Bungo.”

“Nay, Letta is mine, because I was the first to discover her,” said Robin. “Whom will you go with, Letta?”

“With you, of course,” replied the child quite earnestly. “Haven’t you promised to take me back to mamma?”

“Indeed I have, little one, and if I ever get the chance, assuredly I will,” said Robin, with equal earnestness.

“I say, doctor,” said Johnson to Sam, sitting down on a mossy bank, “I’ll stop here and wait for you. That rib ain’t all square yet.”

“Wilful man,” said Sam, “didn’t I advise you not to come? There, lie down and take it easy. We’ll bring you some fruit on our return.”

By this time the party had reached the valley in which the lakelet lay, and beautiful indeed was the scene which presented itself as they passed under the grateful shade of the palm-trees. Everywhere, rich tropical vegetation met their gaze, through the openings in which the sunshine poured like streams of fire. On the little lake numerous flocks of ducks and other fowl were seen swimming in sportive mood, while an occasional splash told of fish of some sort below the surface.

Leaving the sailor in a position whence he could observe them for a long distance, the rest of the party pushed on. During their rambles they found the valley to be much richer in vegetation, and more beautiful, than the distant view from the mountain-top had led them to expect. Small though the valley was, it contained, among other trees, the cocoa-nut palm, the bread-fruit, banana, and sandal-wood. There were also pine-apples, wild rice, and custard-apples, some of which latter delicious fruit, being ripe, was gathered and carried back to Johnson, whom they found sound asleep and much refreshed on their return.

The expedition proved that, barren though the island appeared from the sea, it contained quite enough of the good things of this life to render it a desirable abode for man.

On the coast, too, where the raft had been cast ashore, were discovered a variety of shell-fish, some of which, especially the oysters, were found to be excellent food. And some of the sea-fowl turned out to be very good eating, though a little fishy, while their eggs were as good as those of the domestic fowl.

“It seems to me,” said Robin to Letta one day when they were out on a ramble together, “that this is quite a little paradise.”

“I don’t know what paradise is like,” said the child.

“Well, no more do I,” returned Robin, with a laugh, “but of course everybody understands that it is the place where everything is perfect, and where happiness is complete.”

“It cannot be like paradise without mamma,” said Letta, shaking her pretty head sadly. “I would not go to heaven unless mamma was there.”

Robin was silent for some time, as he thought of his own mother and the talks he used to have with her on this same subject.

“Letta,” he said at length, earnestly, “Jesus will be in heaven. It was His Spirit who taught you to love mamma—as you do, so you are sure to meet her there with Him.”

“Nobodytaughtme to love mamma,” returned the child quietly; “I couldn’t help it.”

“True, little one, but it was God who made you to—‘couldn’t help it.’”

Letta was puzzled by this reply. She raised her bright eyes inquiringly into Robin’s honest face, and said, “But you’ve promised to take me to her, you know.”

“Yes, dear little one, but you must not misunderstand me,” replied the youth somewhat sadly. “I promise that, God helping me, I will do the best I can to find out where your mother is; but you must remember that I have very little to go on. I don’t even know your mother’s name, or the place where you were taken from. By the way, an idea has just occurred to me. Have you any clothes at the cave?”

“Of course I have,” answered Letta, with a merry laugh.

“Yes; but I mean the clothes that you had on when you first came here.”

“I don’t know; Meerta knows. Why?”

“Because your name may be marked on them. Come, let us go back at once and see. Besides, we are wasting time, for you know I was sent out to shoot some ducks for dinner.”

Rising as he spoke, Robin shouldered the shotgun which had been supplied from the robbers’ armoury, and, descending with his little companion towards the lake, soon began to stalk the birds as carefully as if he had been trained to the work by a Red Indian. Stooping low, he glided swiftly through the bushes, until he came within a hundred yards of the margin of the lakelet, where a group of some thirty or forty fat ducks were feeding. Letta had fallen behind, and sat down to watch.

The distance being too great for a shot, and the bushes beyond the spot which he had reached being too thin to conceal him, Robin lay flat down, and began to advance through the long grass after the fashion of a snake, pushing his gun before him. It was a slow and tedious process, but Robin’s spirit was patient and persevering. He screwed himself, as it were, to within sixty yards of the flock, and then fired both barrels almost simultaneously. Seven dead birds remained behind when the affrighted flock took wing.

“It is not very scientific shooting,” said Robin, apologetically, to his fair companion, as she assisted him to tie their legs together; “but our object just now is food, not sport.”

On the way back to the cavern they had to pass over a narrow ledge, on one side of which a precipice descended towards the valley, while the other side rose upwards like a wall. It was not necessarily a dangerous place. They had passed it often before in safety, none of the party being troubled with giddiness; but at this time Robin had unfortunately hung his bundle of ducks on the side which had to brush past the rocky wall. As he passed, the bunch struck a projection and threw him off his balance. In the effort to recover himself he dislodged a piece of rock under his left foot, and, without even a cry, went headlong over the precipice!

Poor Letta stood rooted to the spot, too horrified to scream. She saw her friend, on whom all her hopes were built, go crashing through the foliage immediately below the precipice edge, and disappear. It was the first terrible shock she had ever received. With a convulsive shudder she ran by a dangerously steep route towards the foot of the precipice.

But Robin had not yet met his doom, although he had descended full sixty feet. His fall was broken by several leafy trees, through which he went like an avalanche; and a thick solid bush receiving him at the foot, checked his descent entirely, and slid him quietly off its boughs on to the grass, where he lay, stunned, indeed, but otherwise uninjured.

Poor Letta of course was horrified, on reaching the spot, to find that Robin could not speak, and was to all appearance dead. In an agony of terror she shrieked, and shook him and called him by name—to awaken him, as she afterwards said; but Robin’s sleep was too deep at that moment to be dispelled by such measures. Letta therefore sprang up and ran as fast as she could to the cavern to tell the terrible news and fetch assistance.

Robin, however, was not left entirely alone in his extremity. It so chanced that a remarkably small monkey was seated among the boughs of a neighbouring tree, eating a morsel of fruit, when Letta’s first scream sounded through the grove. Cocking up one ear, it arrested its little hand on the way to its lesser mouth, and listened. Its little black face was corrugated with the wrinkles of care—it might be of fun, we cannot tell. The only large features of the creature were its eyes, and these seemed to blaze, while the brows rose high, as if in surprise.

On hearing the second scream the small monkey laid hold of a bough with its tail, swung itself off, and caught another with its feet, sprang twenty feet, more or less, to the ground, which it reached on its hands, tumbled a somersault inadvertently, and went skipping over the ground at a great rate in the direction of the cries.

When it reached the spot, however, Letta had fled, but Robin still lay motionless on his back. It was evident that the small monkey looked on the prostrate youth with alarm and suspicion, yet with an intense curiosity that no sense of danger could restrain. It walked slowly and inquiringly round him several times, each time drawing closer, while its crouched back and trailing tail betokened abject humility. Then it ventured to put out a small black hand and touch him, drawing it back again as if it had got an electric shock. Then it ventured to touch him again, with less alarm. After that it went close up, and gazed in his face.

Familiarity, says the proverb, breeds contempt. The truth of proverbs can be verified by monkeys as well as men. Seeing that nothing came of its advances, that small monkey finally leaped on Robin’s chest, sat down thereon, and stared into his open mouth. Still the youth moved not, whereupon the monkey advanced a little and laid its paw upon his nose! Either the touch was more effective than Letta’s shaking, or time was bringing Robin round, for he felt his nose tickled, and gave way to a tremendous sneeze. It blew the monkey clean off its legs, and sent it shrieking into a neighbouring tree. As Robin still lay quiet, the monkey soon recovered, and returned to its former position, where, regardless of consequences, it again laid hold of the nose.

This time consciousness returned. Robin opened his eyes with a stare of dreamy astonishment. The monkey replied with a stare of indignant surprise. Robin’s eyebrows rose still higher. So did those of the monkey as it leaped back a foot, and formed its mouth into a little O of remonstrance. Robin’s mouth expanded; he burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, and the monkey was again on the eve of flight, when voices were heard approaching, and, next instant, Letta came running forward, followed at some distance by Sam and the others.

“Oh! my dear, sweet, exquisite darling!” exclaimed Letta.

It did much for the poor youth’s recovery, the hearing himself addressed in such endearing terms, but he experienced a relapse when the monkey, responding to the endearments, ran with obvious joy into the child’s bosom, and submitted to a warm embrace.

“Oh, you darling!” repeated Letta; “where have you been? why did you go away? I thought you were dead. Naughty thing!”

Recollecting Robin with a shock of self-reproach, she dropped the monkey and ran to him.

“It is an old friend, I see,” he said with a languid smile, as she came up.

“Yes, yes; an old pet. I had lost him for a long time. But you’re not killed? Oh! I’msoglad.”

“Killed!” repeated Sam, who was down on his knees carefully examining the patient; “I should think not. He’s not even bruised—only stunned a little. Where did you fall from, Robin—the tree top?”

“No; from the edge of the precipice.”

“What! from the ledge sixty or seventy feet up there? Impossible! You would certainly have been killed if you had fallen from that.”

“So I certainly should,” returned Robin, “if God had not in his mercy grown trees and shrubs there, expressly, among other purposes, to save me.”

In this reply Robin’s mind was running on previous conversations which he had had with his friend on predestination.

The idea of shrubs and trees having been expressly grown on an island of the Southern Seas to save an English boy, seemed doubtful to Sam. He did not, however, express his doubts at the time, but reserved the subject for a future “theological discussion.”

Meanwhile, Slagg, Stumps, and Johnson, having spread some palm branches on a couple of stout poles, laid our hero thereon, and bore him in safety to the pirates’ cave, where, for several days, he lay on one of the luxurious couches, tenderly nursed by Letta and the old woman, who, although she still pathetically maintained that the “roberts an pyrits wasn’t all so bad as each oder,” was quite willing to admit that her present visitors were preferable, and that, upon the whole, she was rather fond of them.

Chapter Twenty.Various Subjects treated of, and a Great Fight detailed.It was the habit of Robin and his friends at this time, the weather being extremely fine and cool, to sit at the mouth of their cavern of an evening, chatting about the events of the day, or the prospects of the future, or the experiences of the past, while old Meerta busied herself preparing supper over a fire kindled on the ground.No subject was avoided on these occasions, because the friends were harmoniously minded, in addition to which the sweet influences of mingled star-light and fire-light, soft air, and lovely prospect of land and sea—to say nothing of the prospect of supper—all tended to induce a peaceful and forbearing spirit.“Well, now,” said Robin, continuing a subject which often engaged their intellectual powers, “it seems to me simple enough.”“Simple!” exclaimed Johnson, with a half-sarcastic laugh, “w’y, now, you an’ the doctor ’ave tried to worrit that electricity into my brain for many months, off an’ on, and I do believe as I’m more muddled about it to-night than I was at the beginnin’.”“P’r’aps it’s because you hain’t got no brains to work upon,” suggested Slagg.“P’r’aps it is,” humbly admitted the seaman. “But look here, now, doctor,” he added, turning to Sam with his brow knotted up into an agony of mental endeavour, and the forefinger of one hand thrust into the palm of the other,—“look here. You tells me that electricity ain’t a substance at all.”“Yes, that’s so,” assented Sam with a nod.“Wery good. Now, then, if it ain’t a substance at all, it’s nothin’. An’ if it’s nothin’, how can you go an’ talk of it as somethin’ an’ give it a name, an’ tell me it works the telegraph, an’ does all manner of wonderful things?”“But it does not follow that a thing must be nothing because it isn’t a substance. Don’t you see, man, that an idea is something, yet it is not a substance. Thought, which is so potent a factor in this world, is not a substance, yet it cannot be called nothing. It is a condition—it is the result of brain-atoms in action. Electricity is sometimes described as an ‘invisible imponderable fluid,’ but that is not quite correct, because a fluid is a substance. It is a better definition to say that electricity is amanifestation of energy—a result of substance in action.”“There, I’m muddled again!” said Johnson, with a look of hopeless incapacity.“Small blame to you, Johnson,” murmured Slagg who had done his best to understand, while Stumps sat gazing at the speakers with an expression of blank complacency.“Look here, Johnson,” said Sam, “you’ve often seen men shaking a carpet, haven’t you?”“In coorse I have.”“Well, have you not observed the waves of the carpet that roll along it when shaken!”“Yes, I have.”“What are these waves?”“Well, sir, I should say they was the carpet,” replied Johnson.“No, the waves are not the carpet. When the waves reach the end of the carpet they disappear. If the waves were the carpet, the carpet would disappear. The same waves in a whip, soft and undulating though they be, result in a loud crack, as you know.”“Muddled again,” said Johnson.“Ditto,” said Slagg.“Why, I’m not muddled a bit!” suddenly exclaimed Stumps, with a half-contemptuous laugh.“Of coorse you’re not,” retorted Slagg. “Brainless things never git into that state. You never heard of a turnip bein’ muddled, did you?”Stumps became vacant, and Sam went on.“Well, you see, the waves are not substance. They are a condition—a result of atoms in motion. Now, when the atoms of a substance are disturbed by friction, or by chemical action, they get into a state of violent commotion, and try wildly to fly from, or to, each other. This effort to fly about is energy. When the atoms get into a very intense state of commotion they have a tendency to induce explosion, unless a way of escape is found—escape for the energy, not for the atoms. Now, when you cause chemical disturbance in an electric battery, the energy thus evolved is called electricity, and we provide a conductor of escape for it in the shape of a copper or other metal wire, which we may carry to any distance we please, and the energy runs along it, as the wave runs along the carpet, as long as you keep up the commotion in the battery among the excited atoms of copper and zinc.”“Mud—no, not quite. I have got a glimmer o’ su’thin’,” said Johnson.“Ditto,” said Slagg.“Supper,” said old Meerta.“Ha! that’s the battery for me,” cried Stumps, jumping up.“Not a bad one either,” said Robin, as they entered the cave; “alternate plates of beef and greens, steeped in some such acid as lemonade, cause a wonderful commotion in the atoms of the human body.”“True, Robin, and the energy thereby evolved,” said Sam, “sometimes bursts forth in brilliant sparks of wit—to say nothing of flashes of absurdity.”“An’ thunderin’ stoopidity,” added Slagg.Further converse on the subject was checked at that time by what Sam termed the charging of the human batteries. The evening meal went on in silence and very pleasantly for some time, but before its close it was interrupted in an alarming manner by the sudden entrance of Letta with wild excitement in her eyes.“Oh!” she cried, pointing back to the entrance of the cave, “a ship!—pirate-ship coming!”A bombshell could scarcely have produced greater effect. Each individual leaped up and darted out, flushing deep red or turning pale, according to temperament. They were not long in verifying the statement. A ledge of rocks concealed the entrance to the cavern from the sea. Over its edge could be seen the harbour in which they had found the vessel whose total destruction has been described; and there, sure enough, they beheld a similar vessel, though considerably smaller, in the act of furling her sails and dropping anchor. There could be no doubt as to her character, for although too distant to admit of her crew being distinguished by star-light, her rig and general appearance betrayed her.“Not a moment to be lost, Robin,” said Sam Shipton hurriedly, as he led the way back to the tavern, where old Meerta and blind Bungo, aided by Letta, had already cleared away all evidence of the late feast, leaving only three tin cups and three pewter plates on the table, with viands appropriate thereto.“Ha! you’re a knowing old lady,” exclaimed Sam, “you understand how to help us, I see.”“Me tink so!” replied Meerta, with an intelligent nod. “On’y us t’ree here. All de pyrits gone away. Dem sinners on’y come here for a feed—p’r’aps for leetil poodre. Soon go away.”“Just so,” said Sam, “meanwhile we will hide, and return after they are gone, or, better still, if you, Letta, and Bungo will come and hide with us, I’ll engage to lay a train of powder from the barrels inside to somewhere outside, and blow the reptiles and the whole mountain into the sea! There’s powder enough to do it.”“You tink me one divl?” demanded the old woman indignantly. “No, some o’ dem pyrits not so bad as each oder. You let ’em alone; me let you alone.”This gentle intimation that Meerta had their lives in her hand, induced Sam to ask modestly what she would have him do.“Go,” she replied promptly, “take rifles, swords, an’ poodre. Hide till pyrits go ’way. If de finds you—fight. Better fight dan be skin alive!”“Unquestionably,” said Sam, with a mingled laugh and shudder, in which his companions joined—as regards the shudder at least, if not the laugh.Acting promptly on the suggestion, Sam armed himself and his comrades each with a good breech-loading rifle, as much ammunition as he could conveniently carry, and an English sword. Then, descending the mountain on the side opposite to the harbour they disappeared in the dark and tangled underwood of the palm-grove. Letta went a short distance with them.“They won’t kill Meerta or blind Bungo,” she said, on the way down. “They’re too useful, though they often treat them badly. Meerta sent me away to hide here the last time the strange bad men came. She thinks I go hide to-night, but I won’t; so, good-night.”“But surely you don’t mean to put yourself in the power of the pirates?” said Robin.“No, never fear,” returned the child with a laugh. “I know how to see them without they see me.”Before further remonstrance could be made, the active child had bounded up the pathway and disappeared.Not long after Sam and his comrades had taken their departure, the pirates came up to the cavern in a body—about forty of them—well armed and ready to fight if need be. They were as rascally a set of cut-throats as one could desire to see—or, rather, not to see—of various nationality, with ugly countenances and powerful frames, which were clothed in more or less fantastic Eastern garb. Their language, like themselves, was mixed, and, we need scarcely add, unrefined. The little that was interchanged between them and Meerta we must, however, translate.“What! alive still!” cried the ruffian, who appeared to be the leader of the band, flinging himself down on a couch with the air of a man who knew the place well, while his men made themselves at home.Meerta merely smiled to the salutation; that in to say, she grinned.“Where are they?” demanded the pirate-chief, referring of course to those who, the reader is aware, were blown up.“Gone away,” answered Meerta.“Far away?” asked the pirate.“Yes,veryfar away.”“Goin’ to be long away?”“Ho! yes,verylong.”“Where’s the little girl they took from Sarawak?”“Gone away.”“Where away?”“Don’t know.”“Now, look here, you old hag,” said the pirate, drawing a pistol from his belt and levelling it, “tell the truth about that girl, else I’ll scatter your brains on the floor. Where has she gone to?”“Don’t know,” repeated Meerta, with a look of calm indifference, as she took up a tankard and wiped it out with a cloth.The man steadied the pistol and pressed the trigger.“You better wait till she has given us our grub,” quietly suggested one of the men.The leader replaced the weapon in the shawl which formed his girdle, and said, “Get it ready quick—the best you have, and bring us some wine to begin with.”Soon after that our friends, while conversing in low tones in the grove, heard the unmistakeable sounds of revelry issue from the cave.“What think you, boys,” said Sam suddenly, “shall we go round to the harbour, surprise and kill the guard, seize the pirate-ship, up anchor and leave these villains to enjoy themselves as best they may?”“What! and leave Letta, not to mention Meerta and Bungo, behind us? Never!”“I forgot them for the moment,” said Sam. “No, we can’t do that.”As he spoke the noise of revelry became louder and degenerated into sounds of angry disputation. Then several shots were heard, followed by the clashing of steel and loud yells.“Surely that was a female voice,” said Robin, rising and rushing up the steep path that led to the cavern, closely followed by his comrades.They had not gone a hundred yards when they were arrested by hearing a rustling in the bushes and the sound of hasty footsteps. Next instant Letta was seen running towards them, with glaring eyes and streaming hair. She sprang into Robin’s arms with a convulsive sob, and hid her white face on his breast.“Speak, Letta, dear child! Are you hurt?”“No, O no; but Meerta, darling Meerta, she is dead! They have shot her and Bungo.”She burst again into convulsive sobbing.“Dead! But are you sure—quite sure?” said Sam.“Quite. I saw their brains scattered on the wall.—Oh, Meerta!—”She ended in a low wail, as though her heart were broken.“Now, boys,” said Johnson, who had hitherto maintained silence, “we must go to work an’ try to cut out the pirate-ship. It’s a good chance, and it’s our only one.”“Yes, there’s nothing to prevent us trying it now,” said Robin, sadly, “and the sooner the better.”“Lucky that we made up the parcels last night, warn’t it?” said Jim Slagg as they made hasty arrangements for carrying out their plan.Jim referred to parcels of rare and costly jewels which each of them had selected from the pirate store, put into separate bags and hid away in the woods, to be ready in case of any sudden occasion arising—such as had now actually arisen—to quit the island. Going to the place where these bags were concealed, they slung them over their shoulders and set off at a steady run, or trot, for the harbour, each taking his turn in carrying Letta, for the poor child was not fit to walk, much less to run.Stealthy though their movements were, however, they did not altogether escape detection. Two bright eyes had been watching Letta during all her wanderings that night, and two nimble feet had followed her when she ran affrighted from the pirates’ stronghold. The party was overtaken before half the distance to the harbour had been gained, and at length, with a cry of satisfaction.Letta’s favourite—the small monkey—sprang upon her shoulder. In this position, refusing to move, he was carried to the coast.As had been anticipated, the pirate vessel was found lying in the pool where the former ship had anchored. Being considerably smaller, however, it had been drawn close to the rocks, so that a landing had been effected by means of a broad plank or gangway instead of a boat. Fortunately for our friends, this plank had not been removed after the pirates had left, probably because they deemed themselves in a place of absolute security. As far as they could see, only one sentinel paced the deck.“I shouldn’t wonder if the guard is a very small one,” whispered Sam to Robin, as they crept to the edge of the shrubs which lined the harbour, and surveyed their intended prize. “No doubt they expected to meet only with friends here—or with nobody at all, as it has turned out,—and have left just enough to guard their poor slaves.”“We shall soon find out,” returned Sam. “Now, boys,” he said, on rejoining the others in the bush, “see that your revolvers are charged and handy, but don’t use them if you can avoid it.”“A cut over the head with cold steel will be sufficiently effective, for we have no desire to kill. Nevertheless, don’t be particular. We can’t afford to measure our blows with such scoundrels; only if we fire we shall alarm those in the cave, and have less time to get under weigh.”“What is to be done with Letta while we attack?” asked Robin.“I’ll wait here till you come for me,” said Letta, with a sad little smile on her tear-bedewed face; “I’m quite used to see fighting.”“Good, keep close, and don’t move from this spot till we come for you, my little heroine,” said Sam. “Now, boys, follow me in single file—tread like mice—don’t hurry. There’s nothing like keeping cool.”“Not much use o’ saying that to a feller that’s red-hot,” growled Slagg, as he stood with a flushed face, a revolver in one hand and a cutlass in the other.Sam, armed similarly, glided to the extreme verge of the bushes, between which and the water there was a space of about thirty yards. With a quiet cat-like run he crossed this space, rushed up the plank gangway, and leaped upon the deck, with his comrades close at his heels. The sentinel was taken completely by surprise, but drew his sword nevertheless, and sprang at Sam with a shout.The latter, although not a professional warrior, had been taught single-stick at school, and was an expert swordsman. He parried the pirate’s furious thrust, and gave him what is technically termed cut Number 1, which clove his turban to the skull and stretched him on the deck. It was a fortunate cut, for the shout had brought up seven pirates, five from below and two from the fore-part of the vessel, where they had been asleep between two guns. With these his comrades were now engaged in mortal combat—three of them having simultaneously attacked Johnson, while two had assailed Jim Slagg.When Sam turned round the stout sailor had cut down one of his foes, but the other two would probably have proved too much for him if Sam had not instantly engaged one of them. He was a powerful, active man, so that for nearly a minute they cut and thrust at each other without advantage to either, until Sam tried a feint thrust, which he followed up with a tremendous slash at the head. It took effect, and set him free to aid Slagg, who was at the moment in deadly peril, for poor Slagg was no swordsman, and had hitherto foiled his two antagonists by sheer activity and the fury of his assaults. He was quite collected, however, for, even in the extremity of his danger, he had refrained from using his revolver lest he should thereby give the alarm to the pirates on land. With one stroke Sam disposed of one of the scoundrels, and Slagg succeeded in cutting down the other.Meanwhile our hero, Robin, and Stumps had attacked the two pirates who chanced to be nearest to them. The former thought of Letta and her wretched fate if this assault should fail. The thought filled his little body with such a gush of what seemed to him like electric fire, that he leaped on his opponent with the fury of a wild cat, and bore him backward, so that he stumbled over the combings of a hatchway and was thrown flat on the deck—hors de combat.But Stumps was not so fortunate. Slow in all his movements, and not too courageous in spirit, he gave way before the villain who assailed him. It was not indeed much to his discredit, for the man was much larger, as well as more active and fierce, than himself. A cut from the pirate’s sword quickly laid him low, and his antagonist instantly turned on Robin. He was so near at the moment that neither of them could effectively use his weapon. Robin therefore dashed the hilt of his sword into the man’s face and grappled with him. It was a most unequal struggle, for the pirate was, as we have said, a huge fellow, while Robin was small and slight. But there were several things in our hero’s favour. He was exceedingly tough and wonderfully strong for his size, besides being active as a kitten and brave as a lion. The way that Robin Wright wriggled in that big man’s embrace, hammered his nose and eyes with the iron hilt of his cutlass, stuck his knees into the pit of his stomach, and assaulted his shins with the toes of boots, besides twisting his left hand into his hair like a vice, was wonderful to behold.It was all Letta’s doing! The more hopeless the struggle felt, the more hapless did Letta’s fate appear to Robin, and the more furious did the spirit within rise above its disadvantages. In the whirl of the fight the pirate’s head chanced for one moment to be in proximity to a large iron block. Robin observed it, threw all his soul and body into one supreme effort, and launched his foe and himself against the block. Both heads met it at the same moment, and the combatants rolled from each other’s grasp. The pirate was rendered insensible, but Robin, probably because of being lighter, was only a little stunned.Recovering in a moment, he sprang up, glanced round, observed that the pirates were almost, if not quite, overpowered, and leaped over the bulwarks. A few moments later and he had Letta in his arms. Just then a pistol shot rang in the night air. The last of the pirates who was overpowered chanced to use his fire-arm, though without success. It was fortunate the fight was over, for, now that the alarm had been given, they knew that their chance of escaping was greatly lessened.“Cut the cable, Slagg. Out with a boat-hook, Johnson, ready to shove off. I’ll fetch Letta,” cried Sam, springing to the side.He was almost run down, as he spoke, by Robin with the child in his arms.“Ha! Robin—well done, my boy. Here, Letta, you understand the language, tell the slaves below to out oars and pull for their lives. It’s their only chance.”The poor creatures, who were bound to the thwarts below deck, had been listening with dull surprise to the fighting on deck—not that fighting was by any means unusual in that vessel, but they must have known that they were in harbour, and that the main body of the pirates were on shore. Still greater was their surprise when they received the above order in the sweet gentle tones of a child’s voice.Whether they deemed her an angel or not we cannot tell, but their belief in her right to command was evinced by their shoving the oars out with alacrity.A few seconds sufficed to cut the cable, and the gangway fell into the sea with a loud splash as the vessel moved slowly from the land, while Johnson, Robin, and Slagg thrust with might and main at the boat-hooks. The oars could not be dipped or used until the vessel had been separated a few yards from the land, and it was during the delay caused by this operation that their greatest danger lay, for already the pirates were heard calling to each other among the cliffs.“Pull, pull now for life, boys,” shouted Sam as he seized the helm.“Pull, pull now for life, boys,” echoed the faithful translator in her silvery tones.The oars dipped and gurgled through the water. There was no question as to the energy of the poor captives, but the vessel was heavy and sluggish at starting. She had barely got a couple of hundred yards from the shore, when the pirates from the cavern came running tumultuously out of the woods. Perceiving at once that their vessel had been captured, they rushed into the water and swam off, each man with his sword between his teeth.They were resolute villains, and swam vigorously and fast. Sam knew that if such a swarm should gain the side of the vessel, no amount of personal valour could prevent recapture. He therefore encouraged the slaves to redoubled effort. These responded to the silvery echo, but so short had been the distance gained that the issue seemed doubtful.“Give ’em a few shots, boys,” cried Sam, drawing his own revolver and firing back over the stern. The others followed his example and discharged all their revolvers, but without apparent effect, for the pirates still came on.One of the sails had fortunately been left unfurled. At this moment a light puff of air from the land bulged it out, and sensibly increased their speed.“Hurrah!” shouted Johnson, “lend a hand, boys, to haul taut.”The sail was trimmed, and in a few minutes the vessel glided quickly away from her pursuers.A loud British cheer announced the fact alike to pirates and slaves, so that the latter were heartened to greater exertion, while the former were discouraged. In a few minutes they gave up the chase with a yell of rage, and turned to swim for the shore.About a hundred yards from the mouth of the harbour there lay a small islet—a mere rock. Here Sam resolved to leave the pirate guard, none of whom had been quite killed—indeed two of them had tried unsuccessfully to rise during the fight.“You see,” said Sam, as he steered for the rock, “we don’t want to have either the doctoring or the killing of such scoundrels. They will be much better with their friends, who will be sure to swim off for them—perhaps use our raft for the purpose, which they will likely find, sooner or later.”They soon ranged up alongside of the island, and in a few minutes the bodies of the pirates were landed and laid there side by side. While they were being laid down, the man who had fought with Robin made a sudden and furious grasp at Johnson’s throat with one hand, and at his knife with the other, but the seaman was too quick for him. He felled him with a blow of his fist. The others, although still alive, were unable to show fight.Then, hoisting the mainsail, and directing their course to the northward, our adventurers slipped quietly over the sea, and soon left Pirate Island far out of sight behind them.

It was the habit of Robin and his friends at this time, the weather being extremely fine and cool, to sit at the mouth of their cavern of an evening, chatting about the events of the day, or the prospects of the future, or the experiences of the past, while old Meerta busied herself preparing supper over a fire kindled on the ground.

No subject was avoided on these occasions, because the friends were harmoniously minded, in addition to which the sweet influences of mingled star-light and fire-light, soft air, and lovely prospect of land and sea—to say nothing of the prospect of supper—all tended to induce a peaceful and forbearing spirit.

“Well, now,” said Robin, continuing a subject which often engaged their intellectual powers, “it seems to me simple enough.”

“Simple!” exclaimed Johnson, with a half-sarcastic laugh, “w’y, now, you an’ the doctor ’ave tried to worrit that electricity into my brain for many months, off an’ on, and I do believe as I’m more muddled about it to-night than I was at the beginnin’.”

“P’r’aps it’s because you hain’t got no brains to work upon,” suggested Slagg.

“P’r’aps it is,” humbly admitted the seaman. “But look here, now, doctor,” he added, turning to Sam with his brow knotted up into an agony of mental endeavour, and the forefinger of one hand thrust into the palm of the other,—“look here. You tells me that electricity ain’t a substance at all.”

“Yes, that’s so,” assented Sam with a nod.

“Wery good. Now, then, if it ain’t a substance at all, it’s nothin’. An’ if it’s nothin’, how can you go an’ talk of it as somethin’ an’ give it a name, an’ tell me it works the telegraph, an’ does all manner of wonderful things?”

“But it does not follow that a thing must be nothing because it isn’t a substance. Don’t you see, man, that an idea is something, yet it is not a substance. Thought, which is so potent a factor in this world, is not a substance, yet it cannot be called nothing. It is a condition—it is the result of brain-atoms in action. Electricity is sometimes described as an ‘invisible imponderable fluid,’ but that is not quite correct, because a fluid is a substance. It is a better definition to say that electricity is amanifestation of energy—a result of substance in action.”

“There, I’m muddled again!” said Johnson, with a look of hopeless incapacity.

“Small blame to you, Johnson,” murmured Slagg who had done his best to understand, while Stumps sat gazing at the speakers with an expression of blank complacency.

“Look here, Johnson,” said Sam, “you’ve often seen men shaking a carpet, haven’t you?”

“In coorse I have.”

“Well, have you not observed the waves of the carpet that roll along it when shaken!”

“Yes, I have.”

“What are these waves?”

“Well, sir, I should say they was the carpet,” replied Johnson.

“No, the waves are not the carpet. When the waves reach the end of the carpet they disappear. If the waves were the carpet, the carpet would disappear. The same waves in a whip, soft and undulating though they be, result in a loud crack, as you know.”

“Muddled again,” said Johnson.

“Ditto,” said Slagg.

“Why, I’m not muddled a bit!” suddenly exclaimed Stumps, with a half-contemptuous laugh.

“Of coorse you’re not,” retorted Slagg. “Brainless things never git into that state. You never heard of a turnip bein’ muddled, did you?”

Stumps became vacant, and Sam went on.

“Well, you see, the waves are not substance. They are a condition—a result of atoms in motion. Now, when the atoms of a substance are disturbed by friction, or by chemical action, they get into a state of violent commotion, and try wildly to fly from, or to, each other. This effort to fly about is energy. When the atoms get into a very intense state of commotion they have a tendency to induce explosion, unless a way of escape is found—escape for the energy, not for the atoms. Now, when you cause chemical disturbance in an electric battery, the energy thus evolved is called electricity, and we provide a conductor of escape for it in the shape of a copper or other metal wire, which we may carry to any distance we please, and the energy runs along it, as the wave runs along the carpet, as long as you keep up the commotion in the battery among the excited atoms of copper and zinc.”

“Mud—no, not quite. I have got a glimmer o’ su’thin’,” said Johnson.

“Ditto,” said Slagg.

“Supper,” said old Meerta.

“Ha! that’s the battery for me,” cried Stumps, jumping up.

“Not a bad one either,” said Robin, as they entered the cave; “alternate plates of beef and greens, steeped in some such acid as lemonade, cause a wonderful commotion in the atoms of the human body.”

“True, Robin, and the energy thereby evolved,” said Sam, “sometimes bursts forth in brilliant sparks of wit—to say nothing of flashes of absurdity.”

“An’ thunderin’ stoopidity,” added Slagg.

Further converse on the subject was checked at that time by what Sam termed the charging of the human batteries. The evening meal went on in silence and very pleasantly for some time, but before its close it was interrupted in an alarming manner by the sudden entrance of Letta with wild excitement in her eyes.

“Oh!” she cried, pointing back to the entrance of the cave, “a ship!—pirate-ship coming!”

A bombshell could scarcely have produced greater effect. Each individual leaped up and darted out, flushing deep red or turning pale, according to temperament. They were not long in verifying the statement. A ledge of rocks concealed the entrance to the cavern from the sea. Over its edge could be seen the harbour in which they had found the vessel whose total destruction has been described; and there, sure enough, they beheld a similar vessel, though considerably smaller, in the act of furling her sails and dropping anchor. There could be no doubt as to her character, for although too distant to admit of her crew being distinguished by star-light, her rig and general appearance betrayed her.

“Not a moment to be lost, Robin,” said Sam Shipton hurriedly, as he led the way back to the tavern, where old Meerta and blind Bungo, aided by Letta, had already cleared away all evidence of the late feast, leaving only three tin cups and three pewter plates on the table, with viands appropriate thereto.

“Ha! you’re a knowing old lady,” exclaimed Sam, “you understand how to help us, I see.”

“Me tink so!” replied Meerta, with an intelligent nod. “On’y us t’ree here. All de pyrits gone away. Dem sinners on’y come here for a feed—p’r’aps for leetil poodre. Soon go away.”

“Just so,” said Sam, “meanwhile we will hide, and return after they are gone, or, better still, if you, Letta, and Bungo will come and hide with us, I’ll engage to lay a train of powder from the barrels inside to somewhere outside, and blow the reptiles and the whole mountain into the sea! There’s powder enough to do it.”

“You tink me one divl?” demanded the old woman indignantly. “No, some o’ dem pyrits not so bad as each oder. You let ’em alone; me let you alone.”

This gentle intimation that Meerta had their lives in her hand, induced Sam to ask modestly what she would have him do.

“Go,” she replied promptly, “take rifles, swords, an’ poodre. Hide till pyrits go ’way. If de finds you—fight. Better fight dan be skin alive!”

“Unquestionably,” said Sam, with a mingled laugh and shudder, in which his companions joined—as regards the shudder at least, if not the laugh.

Acting promptly on the suggestion, Sam armed himself and his comrades each with a good breech-loading rifle, as much ammunition as he could conveniently carry, and an English sword. Then, descending the mountain on the side opposite to the harbour they disappeared in the dark and tangled underwood of the palm-grove. Letta went a short distance with them.

“They won’t kill Meerta or blind Bungo,” she said, on the way down. “They’re too useful, though they often treat them badly. Meerta sent me away to hide here the last time the strange bad men came. She thinks I go hide to-night, but I won’t; so, good-night.”

“But surely you don’t mean to put yourself in the power of the pirates?” said Robin.

“No, never fear,” returned the child with a laugh. “I know how to see them without they see me.”

Before further remonstrance could be made, the active child had bounded up the pathway and disappeared.

Not long after Sam and his comrades had taken their departure, the pirates came up to the cavern in a body—about forty of them—well armed and ready to fight if need be. They were as rascally a set of cut-throats as one could desire to see—or, rather, not to see—of various nationality, with ugly countenances and powerful frames, which were clothed in more or less fantastic Eastern garb. Their language, like themselves, was mixed, and, we need scarcely add, unrefined. The little that was interchanged between them and Meerta we must, however, translate.

“What! alive still!” cried the ruffian, who appeared to be the leader of the band, flinging himself down on a couch with the air of a man who knew the place well, while his men made themselves at home.

Meerta merely smiled to the salutation; that in to say, she grinned.

“Where are they?” demanded the pirate-chief, referring of course to those who, the reader is aware, were blown up.

“Gone away,” answered Meerta.

“Far away?” asked the pirate.

“Yes,veryfar away.”

“Goin’ to be long away?”

“Ho! yes,verylong.”

“Where’s the little girl they took from Sarawak?”

“Gone away.”

“Where away?”

“Don’t know.”

“Now, look here, you old hag,” said the pirate, drawing a pistol from his belt and levelling it, “tell the truth about that girl, else I’ll scatter your brains on the floor. Where has she gone to?”

“Don’t know,” repeated Meerta, with a look of calm indifference, as she took up a tankard and wiped it out with a cloth.

The man steadied the pistol and pressed the trigger.

“You better wait till she has given us our grub,” quietly suggested one of the men.

The leader replaced the weapon in the shawl which formed his girdle, and said, “Get it ready quick—the best you have, and bring us some wine to begin with.”

Soon after that our friends, while conversing in low tones in the grove, heard the unmistakeable sounds of revelry issue from the cave.

“What think you, boys,” said Sam suddenly, “shall we go round to the harbour, surprise and kill the guard, seize the pirate-ship, up anchor and leave these villains to enjoy themselves as best they may?”

“What! and leave Letta, not to mention Meerta and Bungo, behind us? Never!”

“I forgot them for the moment,” said Sam. “No, we can’t do that.”

As he spoke the noise of revelry became louder and degenerated into sounds of angry disputation. Then several shots were heard, followed by the clashing of steel and loud yells.

“Surely that was a female voice,” said Robin, rising and rushing up the steep path that led to the cavern, closely followed by his comrades.

They had not gone a hundred yards when they were arrested by hearing a rustling in the bushes and the sound of hasty footsteps. Next instant Letta was seen running towards them, with glaring eyes and streaming hair. She sprang into Robin’s arms with a convulsive sob, and hid her white face on his breast.

“Speak, Letta, dear child! Are you hurt?”

“No, O no; but Meerta, darling Meerta, she is dead! They have shot her and Bungo.”

She burst again into convulsive sobbing.

“Dead! But are you sure—quite sure?” said Sam.

“Quite. I saw their brains scattered on the wall.—Oh, Meerta!—”

She ended in a low wail, as though her heart were broken.

“Now, boys,” said Johnson, who had hitherto maintained silence, “we must go to work an’ try to cut out the pirate-ship. It’s a good chance, and it’s our only one.”

“Yes, there’s nothing to prevent us trying it now,” said Robin, sadly, “and the sooner the better.”

“Lucky that we made up the parcels last night, warn’t it?” said Jim Slagg as they made hasty arrangements for carrying out their plan.

Jim referred to parcels of rare and costly jewels which each of them had selected from the pirate store, put into separate bags and hid away in the woods, to be ready in case of any sudden occasion arising—such as had now actually arisen—to quit the island. Going to the place where these bags were concealed, they slung them over their shoulders and set off at a steady run, or trot, for the harbour, each taking his turn in carrying Letta, for the poor child was not fit to walk, much less to run.

Stealthy though their movements were, however, they did not altogether escape detection. Two bright eyes had been watching Letta during all her wanderings that night, and two nimble feet had followed her when she ran affrighted from the pirates’ stronghold. The party was overtaken before half the distance to the harbour had been gained, and at length, with a cry of satisfaction.

Letta’s favourite—the small monkey—sprang upon her shoulder. In this position, refusing to move, he was carried to the coast.

As had been anticipated, the pirate vessel was found lying in the pool where the former ship had anchored. Being considerably smaller, however, it had been drawn close to the rocks, so that a landing had been effected by means of a broad plank or gangway instead of a boat. Fortunately for our friends, this plank had not been removed after the pirates had left, probably because they deemed themselves in a place of absolute security. As far as they could see, only one sentinel paced the deck.

“I shouldn’t wonder if the guard is a very small one,” whispered Sam to Robin, as they crept to the edge of the shrubs which lined the harbour, and surveyed their intended prize. “No doubt they expected to meet only with friends here—or with nobody at all, as it has turned out,—and have left just enough to guard their poor slaves.”

“We shall soon find out,” returned Sam. “Now, boys,” he said, on rejoining the others in the bush, “see that your revolvers are charged and handy, but don’t use them if you can avoid it.”

“A cut over the head with cold steel will be sufficiently effective, for we have no desire to kill. Nevertheless, don’t be particular. We can’t afford to measure our blows with such scoundrels; only if we fire we shall alarm those in the cave, and have less time to get under weigh.”

“What is to be done with Letta while we attack?” asked Robin.

“I’ll wait here till you come for me,” said Letta, with a sad little smile on her tear-bedewed face; “I’m quite used to see fighting.”

“Good, keep close, and don’t move from this spot till we come for you, my little heroine,” said Sam. “Now, boys, follow me in single file—tread like mice—don’t hurry. There’s nothing like keeping cool.”

“Not much use o’ saying that to a feller that’s red-hot,” growled Slagg, as he stood with a flushed face, a revolver in one hand and a cutlass in the other.

Sam, armed similarly, glided to the extreme verge of the bushes, between which and the water there was a space of about thirty yards. With a quiet cat-like run he crossed this space, rushed up the plank gangway, and leaped upon the deck, with his comrades close at his heels. The sentinel was taken completely by surprise, but drew his sword nevertheless, and sprang at Sam with a shout.

The latter, although not a professional warrior, had been taught single-stick at school, and was an expert swordsman. He parried the pirate’s furious thrust, and gave him what is technically termed cut Number 1, which clove his turban to the skull and stretched him on the deck. It was a fortunate cut, for the shout had brought up seven pirates, five from below and two from the fore-part of the vessel, where they had been asleep between two guns. With these his comrades were now engaged in mortal combat—three of them having simultaneously attacked Johnson, while two had assailed Jim Slagg.

When Sam turned round the stout sailor had cut down one of his foes, but the other two would probably have proved too much for him if Sam had not instantly engaged one of them. He was a powerful, active man, so that for nearly a minute they cut and thrust at each other without advantage to either, until Sam tried a feint thrust, which he followed up with a tremendous slash at the head. It took effect, and set him free to aid Slagg, who was at the moment in deadly peril, for poor Slagg was no swordsman, and had hitherto foiled his two antagonists by sheer activity and the fury of his assaults. He was quite collected, however, for, even in the extremity of his danger, he had refrained from using his revolver lest he should thereby give the alarm to the pirates on land. With one stroke Sam disposed of one of the scoundrels, and Slagg succeeded in cutting down the other.

Meanwhile our hero, Robin, and Stumps had attacked the two pirates who chanced to be nearest to them. The former thought of Letta and her wretched fate if this assault should fail. The thought filled his little body with such a gush of what seemed to him like electric fire, that he leaped on his opponent with the fury of a wild cat, and bore him backward, so that he stumbled over the combings of a hatchway and was thrown flat on the deck—hors de combat.

But Stumps was not so fortunate. Slow in all his movements, and not too courageous in spirit, he gave way before the villain who assailed him. It was not indeed much to his discredit, for the man was much larger, as well as more active and fierce, than himself. A cut from the pirate’s sword quickly laid him low, and his antagonist instantly turned on Robin. He was so near at the moment that neither of them could effectively use his weapon. Robin therefore dashed the hilt of his sword into the man’s face and grappled with him. It was a most unequal struggle, for the pirate was, as we have said, a huge fellow, while Robin was small and slight. But there were several things in our hero’s favour. He was exceedingly tough and wonderfully strong for his size, besides being active as a kitten and brave as a lion. The way that Robin Wright wriggled in that big man’s embrace, hammered his nose and eyes with the iron hilt of his cutlass, stuck his knees into the pit of his stomach, and assaulted his shins with the toes of boots, besides twisting his left hand into his hair like a vice, was wonderful to behold.

It was all Letta’s doing! The more hopeless the struggle felt, the more hapless did Letta’s fate appear to Robin, and the more furious did the spirit within rise above its disadvantages. In the whirl of the fight the pirate’s head chanced for one moment to be in proximity to a large iron block. Robin observed it, threw all his soul and body into one supreme effort, and launched his foe and himself against the block. Both heads met it at the same moment, and the combatants rolled from each other’s grasp. The pirate was rendered insensible, but Robin, probably because of being lighter, was only a little stunned.

Recovering in a moment, he sprang up, glanced round, observed that the pirates were almost, if not quite, overpowered, and leaped over the bulwarks. A few moments later and he had Letta in his arms. Just then a pistol shot rang in the night air. The last of the pirates who was overpowered chanced to use his fire-arm, though without success. It was fortunate the fight was over, for, now that the alarm had been given, they knew that their chance of escaping was greatly lessened.

“Cut the cable, Slagg. Out with a boat-hook, Johnson, ready to shove off. I’ll fetch Letta,” cried Sam, springing to the side.

He was almost run down, as he spoke, by Robin with the child in his arms.

“Ha! Robin—well done, my boy. Here, Letta, you understand the language, tell the slaves below to out oars and pull for their lives. It’s their only chance.”

The poor creatures, who were bound to the thwarts below deck, had been listening with dull surprise to the fighting on deck—not that fighting was by any means unusual in that vessel, but they must have known that they were in harbour, and that the main body of the pirates were on shore. Still greater was their surprise when they received the above order in the sweet gentle tones of a child’s voice.

Whether they deemed her an angel or not we cannot tell, but their belief in her right to command was evinced by their shoving the oars out with alacrity.

A few seconds sufficed to cut the cable, and the gangway fell into the sea with a loud splash as the vessel moved slowly from the land, while Johnson, Robin, and Slagg thrust with might and main at the boat-hooks. The oars could not be dipped or used until the vessel had been separated a few yards from the land, and it was during the delay caused by this operation that their greatest danger lay, for already the pirates were heard calling to each other among the cliffs.

“Pull, pull now for life, boys,” shouted Sam as he seized the helm.

“Pull, pull now for life, boys,” echoed the faithful translator in her silvery tones.

The oars dipped and gurgled through the water. There was no question as to the energy of the poor captives, but the vessel was heavy and sluggish at starting. She had barely got a couple of hundred yards from the shore, when the pirates from the cavern came running tumultuously out of the woods. Perceiving at once that their vessel had been captured, they rushed into the water and swam off, each man with his sword between his teeth.

They were resolute villains, and swam vigorously and fast. Sam knew that if such a swarm should gain the side of the vessel, no amount of personal valour could prevent recapture. He therefore encouraged the slaves to redoubled effort. These responded to the silvery echo, but so short had been the distance gained that the issue seemed doubtful.

“Give ’em a few shots, boys,” cried Sam, drawing his own revolver and firing back over the stern. The others followed his example and discharged all their revolvers, but without apparent effect, for the pirates still came on.

One of the sails had fortunately been left unfurled. At this moment a light puff of air from the land bulged it out, and sensibly increased their speed.

“Hurrah!” shouted Johnson, “lend a hand, boys, to haul taut.”

The sail was trimmed, and in a few minutes the vessel glided quickly away from her pursuers.

A loud British cheer announced the fact alike to pirates and slaves, so that the latter were heartened to greater exertion, while the former were discouraged. In a few minutes they gave up the chase with a yell of rage, and turned to swim for the shore.

About a hundred yards from the mouth of the harbour there lay a small islet—a mere rock. Here Sam resolved to leave the pirate guard, none of whom had been quite killed—indeed two of them had tried unsuccessfully to rise during the fight.

“You see,” said Sam, as he steered for the rock, “we don’t want to have either the doctoring or the killing of such scoundrels. They will be much better with their friends, who will be sure to swim off for them—perhaps use our raft for the purpose, which they will likely find, sooner or later.”

They soon ranged up alongside of the island, and in a few minutes the bodies of the pirates were landed and laid there side by side. While they were being laid down, the man who had fought with Robin made a sudden and furious grasp at Johnson’s throat with one hand, and at his knife with the other, but the seaman was too quick for him. He felled him with a blow of his fist. The others, although still alive, were unable to show fight.

Then, hoisting the mainsail, and directing their course to the northward, our adventurers slipped quietly over the sea, and soon left Pirate Island far out of sight behind them.

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