The first task was to send by shore-boat a brief note on board the
admiral, informing him of our capture, and requesting him to send a few
hands on board to take care of the vessel. A prompt reply, in the shape
of a somewhat dandified mid, with a dozen stout seamen to back him, was
vouchsafed to this request, the midshipman bringing with him also a
verbal message to the effect that the admiral would be glad to see us on
board to breakfast with him. This condescension, of course, merely
meant that he was curious to hear full particulars of the capture, but
we nevertheless felt much gratified at the invitation; and, detaining
the gig alongside only long enough to enable us to make ourselves
presentable, we jumped into her, and five minutes later found ourselves
on the quarter-deck of the old _Mars_.
Admiral J-- himself happened to be on deck at the moment when we stepped
in through the entering port, and the look of mingled astonishment and
anger with which he regarded us as we presented ourselves before him at
once told us that something was wrong.
"How now, young gentlemen!" he testily exclaimed; "are you the two
midshipmen who sent me this note, informing me that you had captured
yonder cock-boat of a felucca?" We respectfully intimated that we were.
"Then how comes it, sirs, that you have presumed to come on board me in
those 'longshore togs? Away with you back at once, and when next you
venture to appear in my presence, see to it that you come in a proper
uniform."
The murder was out. We were, of course, dressed in the clothes with
which Don Luis de Guzman had so generously supplied us, and we had been
for so long a time out of uniform that it had never occurred to us that
our costume would be regarded as in the slightest degree inappropriate.
We explained in as few words as possible that we were two of the
surviving officers of the _Hermione_, that we had been for some time
prisoners in La Guayra, and that we had only very recently effected our
escape therefrom; and that put the whole affair straight in a moment,
the admiral, who, peppery as was his temper, was a thoroughly kind-
hearted old fellow in the main, actually condescending to apologise for
his hasty speech; and, the steward at that moment announcing that
breakfast was on the table, we all--that is to say, the admiral, Captain
Bradshaw, Courtenay, and myself--trundled into the cabin and took our
places at the table. Then, for the first time, as we found ourselves
once more in the society of our own countrymen, with good wholesome
English fare sending forth its grateful odours to our nostrils, with the
table covered with its snowy linen, and laden with the handsome, yet
home-like breakfast equipage, did we fully realise all that we had
passed through since we had last found ourselves so placed, and for my
part the revulsion of feeling almost overcame me. The emotions of a
midshipman are, however, proverbially of a very transient character, and
I soon found myself prosecuting a most vigorous attack upon the
comestibles, and, between mouthfuls, relating in pretty full detail all
our adventures from the moment of the mutiny, excepting, of course, my
love passages with Dona Inez, which I kept strictly to myself.
The story of the mutiny naturally excited a very lively interest, and
Courtenay and I were questioned and cross-questioned upon the subject
until we were absolutely pumped dry, it transpiring that we were the
first survivors of that dreadful tragedy who had reappeared among our
own countrymen. The narrative of our sojourn in La Guayra did not, I
regret to say, prove one-tenth part so attractive; but when we reached
the subject of the Conconil lagoons, Merlani's treasure hoard, and the
scheme of the Spanish authorities to at once possess themselves of it
and suppress the piratical band, the interest again revived, and we were
questioned almost as closely on this subject as we had been about the
mutiny.
Before the meal was concluded, it had been settled that a schooner--
lately a French privateer--recently captured, and then in the hands of
the dockyard people undergoing the process of refitting, should be
hurried forward with all possible despatch, and commissioned by a
certain lieutenant O'Flaherty, with Courtenay and myself as his aides,
her especial mission to be the destruction of Merlani's stronghold, and
the capture of as many members of the piratical gang as we could lay
hands upon. As, however, it seemed that the _Foam_--as the schooner had
been re-christened--could not possibly be got ready under eight or ten
days at the earliest, we were informed that we might take a week to look
about us, a permission of which we most gladly availed ourselves. We
were also informed that the prize-money for the Jean Rabel affair had
been awarded, and the admiral was good enough to advise us to put our
business affairs into the hands of his own agent in Kingston, to whom he
gave us a letter of introduction.
Our first business on leaving the _Mars_ was to take passage to Kingston
in one of the many sailing-boats which, owned by negro boatmen, are
always obtainable at Port Royal, and in her we managed, with the aid of
a fine sea-breeze, to make the passage in an hour, being badly beaten,
however, in a race with a gig belonging to the frigate _Volage_ which
happened to be lying at Port Royal at the time.
Arrived in Kingston we made our way, in the first instance, to the post-
office, where we each found several letters awaiting us. There were
nine for me, of which eight were from my father, and one--heaven only
knows how it had found its way across in so short a time--from Dona
Inez. I _ought_, I suppose, to have first opened those from my father;
but I did not. With the ardour that might have been expected I first
tore open the envelope superscribed by Inez. The letter was dated the
day after our flight from La Guayra; and the poor girl, who had already
learned from the faithful Juan that our plans had somehow been capsized,
had written in an agony of apprehension as to our safety. It appeared
that Juan--whose arrival at the cove had been delayed about half an hour
by the suspicious manoeuvres of a felucca ahead of him, undoubtedly the
_Pinta_--had hung about the spot for something like an hour and a half,
at the expiration of which time two Spaniards had presented themselves
on the beach and had inquired whether he belonged to the _Pinta_. On
his saying that he did not he had been very sharply cross-questioned as
to who he was, and the reasons for his presence there at that hour,
which cross-questioning he was sensible enough to evade and cut short by
retreating to his felucca and returning to La Guayra, from whence he,
the first thing next morning, made his way to the castle to report and
to seek further instructions. Having actually witnessed our departure,
and knowing from the time at which it had occurred that we must have
made our way on board the wrong felucca--which Juan was subsequently
able to say with almost absolute certainty _must_ have been the
_Pinta_--my lady-love was painfully anxious as to our fate; for it
appeared that the _Pinta_ and her crew bore a somewhat evil reputation
among those who professed to know her best at La Guayra; and the only
hope or consolation which Dona Inez could find lay in her somewhat too
favourable estimate of our ability to take care of ourselves. She most
earnestly entreated that I would not lose a moment, after the receipt of
her letter, in writing to set her mind at rest. She added that her
father had returned home in excellent health; and that, though he had at
first betrayed some vexation at the loss of our services, he had soon
cooled down, and had then acknowledged that he was glad, for our sakes,
that we had succeeded in effecting our escape.
Having read and re-read this most cherished epistle some half a dozen
times over, I refolded and put it carefully into my pocket, next turning
to the letters from my father, which I arranged and opened according to
the dates of the postmarks.
The first of these letters--being the third written by my father since
the date of my leaving England (I had received the other two on the
occasion of our former visit to Port Royal, in the _Hermione_)--was very
similar to all others which had ever reached me from the same writer;
brief, cold, and evidently strained and artificial as to the one or two
expressions of affection contained therein--altogether a painful and
unsatisfactory letter to receive, in fact. The second was somewhat
similar, except that therein my father condescended to inform me that he
was by no means well; that he thought he had perhaps been overworking
himself, and that unless his health speedily mended he feared he should
be obliged to call in medical advice. This was sufficiently alarming;
but the third letter was even more so, for in it he informed me that he
had suffered a complete break-down in health and spirits; that he had
placed himself under the care of Doctor Wise, one of the most eminent
physicians of the day, and that he had not only been strictly enjoined
to entirely lay aside his brush for at least six months, but that he had
also been ordered to travel. This, however, was evidently not the worst
of it; for the letter, a long, rambling, and somewhat incoherent epistle
this time, went on to hint mysteriously at the causes which had brought
this lamentable state of affairs about; but so obscurely was the letter
worded that, on its first perusal, the only information I could
definitely gather from it was that my father was then suffering from the
effects of many years of mental anguish resulting from some matter
which, if I understood him aright, seemed to be in some way connected
with my poor dead mother. The letter concluded with the extraordinary
words, "Lionel, the shadow of deception and falsehood rests upon us
both, and from no fault of ours.--Yours distractedly, Cuthbert
Lascelles."
"The shadow of deception and falsehood!--no fault of ours!--yours
distractedly!" Whatever could it all mean? The closing words of the
letter, "yours distractedly," puzzled me most of all. Hitherto my
father's communications to me, however lacking in affection they might
otherwise have been, had all terminated with the orthodox "your
affectionate father." Why, then, this departure from the rule? Was it
intentional, or was it merely to be regarded as an indication of the
terribly disturbed state of the writer's mind?
I read and re-read this most singular epistle at least half a dozen
times without gathering any additional light upon the obscure and
mysterious hints which it contained, and I then turned to the remaining
letters, thinking I might possibly find in them a solution to the
enigma. And at the first reading I imagined I _did_ find it; the
conclusion at which I arrived being that my poor unfortunate father must
have gone mad! I patiently went through the whole packet a second time,
seeking in them some additional evidence of insanity; but no, saving on
this one particular matter the writer had evidently been in full
possession of all his faculties. The fourth letter contained the
information that the news of the mutiny on board the _Hermione_ had
reached England, and that it was believed some of the officers had
escaped massacre and had been landed at La Guayra. Touching this matter
he had written: "I can scarcely say, at this moment, whether I hope you
are among the living or among the dead. If the latter, I shall at least
enjoy the melancholy satisfaction of knowing that I have seen the last
of one who, though I could have dearly loved him, and have been proud of
him for his own sake, was, nevertheless, although my own son, almost
hateful to me, because of his marked resemblance to one whose duplicity
has been the curse of my life. But if, on the other hand, you are
living, Lionel--as something whispers to me that you are--I shall
perhaps be disposed to accept your preservation as a token from Heaven
that I may, after all, have been mistaken, and that your mother could,
had I given her the opportunity, have explained those circumstances
which, unexplained, completely shattered her own happiness and mine."
The next letter, the fifth, was dated from Rome, in which city my father
informed me that he had then been staying for about three weeks; but
that he was about to leave it again, for what destination he could not
then say, as he had derived no benefit whatever from the change--was
rather worse, in fact--since the city was so full of associations
connected with my mother that his trouble was then harder than ever to
bear. He added that he was still strongly impressed with the idea of my
being alive, and that this idea, with the excuse it afforded him for
continuing to write to me, gave him some small comfort. He said he had
been exceedingly gratified at the very favourable report which had
reached him of my conduct at Jean Rabel, and he most earnestly besought
me, if indeed I were still alive, to comport myself in such a manner
that my glorious deeds might in some measure, if not wholly, atone for
the suffering my mother had caused him. The remaining letters were
dated from Naples. They all dwelt upon the same theme; but the last
closed with the request that, if it ever reached me, I would at once
write in reply, addressing my letter to his lawyer in London, who would
be kept advised of his whereabouts and would forward it on to him.
There was also an assurance that he had no desire to visit my mother's
heartless deception of him upon me, since, whatever were _her_ faults,
_I_ was his son, and he had no intention of disowning the relationship;
so that, if ever in need of money, I was without hesitation to draw upon
him for any reasonable amount. "In want of money, indeed!" Luckily, I
was not; but, as I crushed the letters back into my pocket, I solemnly
vowed that, rather than touch a penny of that man's money, at least
whilst his state of mind remained what it then was, I would perish of
starvation in a ditch. Then bewildered, stunned, and utterly crushed in
spirit, I hastily excused myself to Courtenay upon the plea of having
received distressing news from England, and, obeying the same impulse
which impels a wounded animal to rush away and hide itself and its
suffering in the deepest solitudes, I turned my back upon Kingston, with
its busy bustling streets, and hastened to bury myself among the hills.
I pushed forward without rest or pause until I found myself on the crest
of a lofty eminence overlooking the town and harbour; when, flinging
myself down beneath the grateful shade of a gigantic cotton-wood, I gave
free vent to my feelings of suspense, indignation, and sorrow, and
burying my face in my hands wept as if my heart would break. I will not
attempt to describe or enlarge upon the feelings which then harrowed my
soul; the words have never yet been coined which could adequately
express my anguish. No merely mortal pen could depict it; nor can
anyone, save those unfortunates who have passed through such an ordeal,
imagine it. Moreover, the subject even now, when I am old and grey-
headed, is still so painful to me that I care not to dwell unduly upon
it. Let me, therefore, pass on to the moment when, relieved, yet
exhausted by the passage of that terrible outburst of tears, I had so
far regained composure as to be able to look my position fairly in the
face.
My first act was to draw forth the fatal bundle of letters and reperuse
them patiently from beginning to end, still clinging to the desperate
hope that I had after all, in some unaccountable way, misunderstood my
father's meaning, and that I was under some hallucination. But no;
there were the words all too plainly written for any possibility of
mistake. His was the hallucination--not mine. _False_? A
dissimulator? I thrust my hand into my bosom, and dragged forth the
velvet case containing my mother's portrait, which I had worn next my
heart throughout all the vicissitudes of fortune encountered by me since
the moment it had first been placed in my hands, and, pressing the
spring, threw back the cover, and allowed my eyes to rest upon the
loveliness it had concealed. Deceitful! If falsehood lurked within the
liquid depths of those clear, calm, steadfast eyes, or was hidden behind
that smooth and placid brow, then I thought must the very angels be
false! If falsehood could shroud itself behind a mask of such
surpassing loveliness, such an aspect and personification of all that is
pure, and innocent, and faithful, and true, "where," I asked myself,
"oh! where is truth to be found?" That my mother had, all unwittingly,
and in some inexplicable manner aroused my father's suspicions, I could
not doubt; but, after all, the matter was manifestly, to my mind, merely
one of fancied or implied duplicity or deceit capable of easy
explanation; it would probably have had no lasting effect on any but a
diseased mind; and, knowing him as well as I did, I could understand
how, with his reserved temperament and in his wounded pride, my father
would silently withdraw himself from his wife, nor deign to stoop so far
as to seek an explanation. I could discern only too clearly that he had
taken as proof of dissimulation some circumstance that would only appear
suspicious until the opportunity for explanation had passed away for
ever--hence the unhappiness of which I had gained an inkling during my
nursery days--and that it was probably not until his heart had been
softened by bereavement that he had coolly and dispassionately enough
reviewed the circumstances to arrive at the conclusion that he might,
after all, have been mistaken. My father had written of his "doubts and
misgivings," and I felt confident that it was nothing in the world but
the tenacious hold of these doubts and misgivings upon his mind which
had in the first instance made him so unfatherly in his treatment of me,
and had now reduced him almost to a condition of insanity. It was the
horrible uncertainty which was killing him, soul and body--the
uncertainty whether, on the one hand, his suspicions had been well
founded; or whether, on the other hand, he had been hideously cruel and
unjust to the one being who, above all others, ought to have been the
object of his most tender solicitude. _I_ had no doubt whatever upon
the subject; there was a conviction, amounting to absolute certainty in
my mind, that my unhappy father had all too easily allowed himself to be
deceived, and I there and then solemnly vowed and resolved that
henceforward it should be the great object and aim of my life to
demonstrate this to him to the point of positive conviction. "Yes," I
exclaimed, springing to my feet with renewed hope, "I had already one
incentive--my love for Inez--to spur me forward to great and noble
achievements: I have now another--the justification of my dead mother's
memory; and henceforward these shall be the twin stars to guide me
onward in my career. `For Love and Honour' shall be my motto; and, with
these two for guerdon, what may a man not dare and do?"
An hour later saw me back in Kingston and comfortably ensconced in the
bay-window of a private room in the--hotel, inditing a long epistle to
my father in collective reply to the entire budget I had that morning
received from him. In this letter I summarily disposed of the mutiny
and my subsequent adventures in half a dozen brief sentences, feeling
that such a matter could well wait until my father was in a more
congenial mood for the communication of particulars; devoting my entire
energies to the combating of those doubts which I now saw had been for
years insidiously sapping his happiness, ay, and his very intellect as
well I thanked him for taking me into his confidence, fully entered into
my reasons for regarding his suspicions as groundless, and besought him
first to communicate to me fully all the facts of the case--which, I
pointed out to him, I ought to be made acquainted with, in order that I
might be enabled to take the fullest advantage of any opportunity which
might offer, in my wanderings, to sift the matter to the bottom--and
then to dismiss all thought of it from his mind. This letter cost me
three or four hours of severe study; but I contrived to bring it to a
satisfactory conclusion at last; and then, with a considerably lighter
heart, I began and finished a letter to Inez, in which, mingled with the
usual lover-like protestations, I gave her full details of our adventure
from the parting moment on the beach to our arrival in Port Royal
harbour. I further told her that I found myself at that moment
possessed of a tidy little sum in prize-money, and that, inspired by my
love for her, I had resolved to fight my way to the top of the ladder
with the utmost possible expedition, with a great deal more of the same
sort, which would no doubt appear the most arrant nonsense to _you_,
dear reader, so I will not inflict it upon you.
These two important tasks completed, I felt very much more easy in my
mind, and was able to sit down to my dinner, which was shortly
afterwards served, with a tolerable appetite. Whilst I was engaged in
discussing the meal Courtenay came in. He informed me that he had
accepted an invitation for himself and me to spend a week with Mr
Thomson (the admiral's, and also our own, agent) at his country house,
some fifteen miles off in the heart of the Blue Mountain range; and
that, as he had been unable to find me in time for us to go out there
that evening, our host had promised to send in a couple of saddle-horses
and a negro guide for our accommodation next morning, and that we should
find them awaiting us at Mr Thomson's store at nine o'clock. This was
good news, for though I had pulled myself pretty well together after the
shock occasioned by the perusal of my father's letters, I felt that a
little change and amusement would be most acceptable under the
circumstances.
On the following morning, punctual to the moment, we presented ourselves
at the rendezvous; where we found, as had been promised, a couple of
excellent saddle-horses awaiting us in charge of a grinning, happy-
looking negro groom, who was mounted on a stout mule. Our guide, who
informed us that his name was Pompey, promptly took charge of our
valises, which he slung one on each side of his own saddle; we then
mounted, and without loss of time got under weigh for our destination.
The first six or seven miles of our journey was uninteresting enough,
but when we plunged into the mountain road and found ourselves environed
on each side by a thick growth of luxuriant tropical vegetation, the
foliage and flowers of which bore all and more than all the hues of the
rainbow, whilst gorgeous butterflies, gaudy insects, and birds of the
most brilliant plumage flitted hither and thither about us, with an
occasional opening in the dense growth revealing the most enchanting
little views of the distant harbour and sea, or perchance a passing
glimpse of some quiet vale, with its cane-fields, boiling-house, and
residential buildings, our journey became an enjoyable one indeed. We
reached our destination--an extensive and somewhat straggling one-
storied building, with large lofty rooms shrouded in semi-darkness by
the "jalousies" or Venetian shutters which are used to carefully exclude
every ray of sunlight--about noon; and received a most cordial and
hearty welcome from our host, a most hospitable Scotchman, and his
family, and here--not to unnecessarily spin out my yarn--we spent one of
the most pleasant and enjoyable weeks I had up to that time passed. The
family, in addition to our host and his charming wife, consisted of a
son and three daughters, who did everything that was possible to make
our visit pleasant, and they were a musical family throughout; so that
what with shooting, riding, visiting our somewhat distant neighbours,
and receiving visits in return, when singing and dancing became the
order of the evening, our short holiday passed all too quickly. These
most excellent people were the first, as they were the warmest, friends
I ever made in the island; and when, late in the afternoon of the eighth
day of our visit, Courtenay and I, with Pompey again for our pilot,
mounted to return to Kingston, we received a very warm and evidently
sincere invitation from the whole family to make their house our home
whenever opportunity would afford. We slept at our hotel that night,
and, bright and early next morning, made our way to Port Royal, where
almost the first object which met our view was our new ship, the _Foam_,
at anchor close under the stern of the flag-ship, with the hands on
board busy bending a new suit of canvas.
Directing our boatman to run alongside, a minute or two later saw us on
deck shaking hands with Mr Neil O'Flaherty, our new commander, who
proved to be a regular typical Irishman--genial, high-spirited, and full
to overflowing with fun and humour. We took to him in a moment; and I
think the favourable impression was mutual, for we never had the ghost
of an unpleasantness with him during the short but eventful period which
we served under him. We had been thoughtful enough to bring our chests
along with us in the boat, so that we could join at once, if need were;
these were accordingly hoisted up over the side, and the boatman
dismissed; after which, at O'Flaherty's invitation, we descended to the
cabin to cement our new friendship over a glass of wine, and to have a
chat about the cruise upon which we were about to enter, leaving the
boatswain to superintend the operations on deck. The admiral, it
seemed, had only given our new skipper a very general set of
instructions, leaving him to arrange all details as to the armament and
manning of the schooner after a conference with us, as we were supposed
to be the persons best posted on the question of these requirements.
The whole of the morning was devoted to a full and particular recital on
our part of everything which had transpired from the moment of our
boarding the _Pinta_ until that of our leaving her; after which we
formed ourselves into a committee to discuss the outfit of the craft;
and we now learned, somewhat to our chagrin, that Carera and his boat's
crew, having duly turned up at Port Royal, had made such representations
to the admiral as had induced that distinguished officer to release them
and the felucca forthwith, upon the understanding that they were to
return at once to La Guayra, and were not to attempt to communicate,
either directly or indirectly, with Merlani or any of the other pirate
gangs on the Cuban coast which it was proposed that we should attack.
This, of course, was all very well; and would do no harm whatever _if_
the rascals only adhered to their agreement; but of this I confess I
felt somewhat doubtful. The mischief, however, if mischief there were,
was done, and it was therefore no use to worry about it; but I saw that
it would need even greater circumspection than ever in the carrying out
of our difficult enterprise, and for that, heaven knows, the necessity
ought never to have been created.
Our palaver over, we all adjourned to the deck, and from, thence into
the gig, which had been ordered alongside to convey us on shore to the
dockyard. We took advantage of this opportunity to make a thorough
inspection of the outward appearance of the craft which was to be our
future home; and, so far as I at least was concerned, I cannot say that
the impression produced was an altogether satisfactory one. In the
first place, the _Foam_ was, to my mind, rather small for the work she
had to do, measuring only eighty tons register. She was, it is true, a
very fine beamy little vessel for her size, of shallow draught of water,
with sides as round as an apple, and beautifully moulded; indeed, I
judged, from the look of her, that she had evidently been specially
built for privateering purposes, her carrying capacity being very small,
whilst no effort seemed to have been spared to render her exceedingly
fast and stiff under her canvas. She was very strongly built of oak,
with massive timbers, copper fastened throughout, and heavily coppered
up to her bends; so that, as far as her hull was concerned, there was
not much, beyond its size, to find fault with. But, in the matter of
spars and rigging, those heathens the dockyard riggers had completely
ruined her, as O'Flaherty admitted, almost with tears in his eyes. Her
lower masts had been left in her intact and untouched, as they had been
when she first fell into our hands, and two handsomer sticks I never
saw; but, in place of the tall slim willowy topmasts which she then
carried, they had sent up a couple of heavy, clumsy sticks which, with
the yards on her foremast, were stout enough for a vessel of at least
twice her tonnage. And, not content with this, they had further
hampered the poor little craft with a regular maze of heavy shrouds,
stays, and back-stays, all of which had been set up until they were as
taut as harp-strings; so that we had only too much reason to fear that,
in a fresh breeze and a choppy sea, we should find the little craft
cramped and her sailing powers completely spoiled. There was one
comfort, however, the rigging was all new; and we trusted that a few
hours at sea would stretch it sufficiently to restore in some measure
the spring and play of her spars; but the heavy top-hamper with which
she was burdened was an evil which could only be cured in one way; and I
resolved that it _should_ be cured as soon as we got out of harbour, if
I could bring O'Flaherty to my way of thinking.
Our inspection completed, we pulled ashore to the dockyard, where
O'Flaherty made out and handed in his requisition for such further
stores as we considered would be necessary; and from thence we wended
our way to the gun wharf, where arrangements were made for the
substitution of six brass long sixes in place of the nine-pound
carronades with which it had been proposed to arm the little hooker.
These, with the long eighteen which was already mounted on a pivot on
the forecastle, would, we considered, make us as fit to cope with the
pirates as we could hope to be in so small a craft. The guns came
alongside and were hoisted in that same afternoon; and the following day
witnessed the completion of our preparations for sea, including the
shipping of our ammunition and the filling up of our water-tanks,
etcetera. O'Flaherty was able to report himself ready for sea late that
afternoon, upon which all three of us were invited on board the _Mars_
to dine with the admiral. The captain of the _Emerald_ frigate, which
had arrived the previous day, and his son, a midshipman belonging to the
same ship, were also among the guests; and, in the latter, I thought I
recognised the young gentleman who had amused himself by popping away at
me with a musket during the pursuit of the _Pinta_ through the Boca de
Guajaba. I was not quite certain about the matter at first; but the
conversation which ensued upon the admiral making mention of the
_Foam's_ destination and mission soon convinced me that I was correct in
my surmise. The _Emerald_, it then turned out, was the identical
frigate from which we had so narrowly escaped; and Captain Fanshawe at
once waxed eloquent upon the unparalleled audacity and effrontery of the
Cuban pirates, and the urgent necessity for their prompt suppression,
instancing the escape of the _Pinta_ as a case in point. His son, too,
as one of the actual participators in the pursuit, had a great deal to
say upon the subject, and seemed somewhat disposed to draw the long-bow
when narrating his own share of the exploit, which tendency I thought it
only kind to nip in the bud by giving our version of the affair. Both
father and son at first appeared to be considerably nettled when they
found that it was to us they owed their discomfiture; but their better
sense speedily prevailed, and they joined as heartily as the rest in the
laugh against themselves. On parting at the gangway that night,
however, as we prepared to leave for our respective vessels, young
Fanshawe laughingly remarked, as he gave our hands a cordial farewell
grip:
"You have the laugh on your side at present, Lascelles; but I warn you
that you will not get off so easily the next time I have an opportunity
of taking a pot-shot at you."
We reached the _Foam_ about midnight; and next morning at daybreak
weighed and worked out of the roadstead with the first of the sea-
breeze, nipping sharp round the point as soon as we could weather it and
keeping close along to windward of the Palisades until we were abreast
of Plum Point; when, being fairly clear of the shoals, we braced sharp
up for Yallah's Point. Once abreast of this, we were enabled to check
our weather-braces a trifle and ease off a foot or two of the main-
sheet, when away we went for Morant Point through as nasty a short
choppy sea as it has ever been my luck to encounter; the schooner
jerking viciously into it and sending the spray flying from her weather
bow right aft into the body of the mainsail and out over the lee
quarter. But the discomfort to which we were thus subjected was amply
compensated for by the magnificent panorama of wooded mountain, brawling
stream, sweeping bay, landlocked inlet, frowning cliff, and white sandy
beach, as we skirted the shores of this most beautiful island of
Jamaica.