The brig, whose name was the Tartar (a very fitting name for one
that had been a privateer) was manned with thirty able seamen whom
I had myself been permitted to pick from the man-of-war's men in
the harbor. As lieutenant I had a quartermaster named Fincham, a
very excellent officer. We sailed with a fair wind until we reached
Port Antonio on the northeast side of the island, but then the wind
fell contrary, and we had to beat up along the north coast at a
creeping pace that vexed me sorely.
We did not expect to have any news of the buccaneers until we had
fetched past Orange Bay, but from thence onwards I knew that we
should have to search every inlet save those that had an anchorage
for large vessels; and our slow progress was the more vexing
because I feared that the buccaneers might get wind of Mr. Benbow's
return and sheer off. I hoped they would not do this, for I was
burning to justify the admiral's confidence in me by bringing the
pirate craft into harbor.
One morning, when we had been a week at sea, we sighted a wreck on
a small island off Blowing Point; the islet has since totally
disappeared in one of the volcanic disturbances that afflict those
latitudes. We drew in towards the derelict, and then spied a man on
deck waving his shirt very energetically to attract our notice. I
sent Fincham with a boat's crew to bring him off, and learned from
him when he came aboard that he was the sole survivor of the barque
Susan Maria, which was set upon a week before by a buccaneer vessel
and carried to this islet, where she had been plundered and burned,
many of her crew being killed, the rest taken away to be sold to
the Spanish planters in Hispaniola. The man had been left for dead
on the deck, but he had come out of his swoon, and had since
supported himself on some moldy cheese and biscuits which the
buccaneers had not deemed worth taking when they stripped the
vessel.
He told me that the buccaneer vessel was a light brig carrying six
guns and a crew of at least sixty men of all nations, her captain
being a Frenchman. She had sailed away to the westward. I had
little doubt that this was the very vessel I had been sent in
search of, and though she was stronger than I supposed, I was hot
set to find her and see for myself whether we might not attempt to
put a stop to her mischievous career.
We lay becalmed for the rest of that day, but a light easterly
breeze springing up towards morning, we clapped on all sail and
worked steadily along the coast. I examined the chart very
carefully for likely anchorages, and used my perspective glass
constantly; but we saw no sign of the pirate, nor indeed of any
vessel, all that day.
Towards dusk we approached the entrance of the cove whence I had
sailed the brig of which I was now in command. We heaved to behind
a headland about two miles to the east of it, out of view of any
vessel which might be in the cove or at the mouth, and waited for
darkness. I had no reason to suppose that the pirate lay within the
cove, though 'twas likely enough; but it behooved us to go as
cautiously as if we knew she was there for certain. Considering her
strength, if it should come to a fight, 'twas clearly good tactics
to choose my own time and manner of attacking her.
About the end of the second dog watch I lowered a boat, and with
Joe Punchard and half a dozen picked men, together with the sailor
we had rescued, set off with muffled oars up the cove to
reconnoiter, leaving Fincham in charge of the brig. The moon was
rising, but there was a deep shadow beneath the cliffs, and by
keeping well within this I trusted to escape observation. The cove
was about two miles long, and after rowing half the distance I
caught sight of a dark shape before me, as nearly as I could judge,
almost at the same spot as my brig when I cut her cable. We drew a
little closer, till we could see every spar clear in the moonlight,
and the man of the Susan Maria told me that the vessel was beyond
doubt the pirate of which we were in search. We lay on our oars for
a while watching her, and listening for sounds from her deck, but
hearing nothing, and judging that her captain would feel perfectly
secure, I thought that all things favored an attempt to cut her out
that night.
We pulled back to the brig and immediately prepared two boats for
the expedition. I selected twenty-four men for the job, leaving ten
to guard the brig. 'Twas a question whether Fincham or Punchard
should be placed in charge of the second boat, but Joe pleaded so
hard to have a hand in the venture (animated as much by his love of
action as by his promise to Mistress Lucy, of which I as yet knew
nothing) that I decided to leave Fincham in command of the vessel.
If the buccaneers numbered sixty, as I had been told, we had heavy
odds against us; but with the advantage of surprise I hoped that
our twenty-four picked men would prove equal to more than twice
their number of a mixed lot who had nothing but their common crimes
to hind them together.
'Twas about four in the morning, under a waning moon, when we again
came within sight of the enemy's vessel. We rowed dead slow in
order to avoid noise, and had come within half a cable's length of
her, and I was on the point of ordering my men to give way for a
dash, when I was surprised to hear voices from the deck, and the
creaking of davit blocks. 'Twas clear the buccaneers were letting
down a boat. I whispered my men to ship oars, and waited with no
little anxiety.
Had our approach been discovered? I could not think so, for the
most confident enemy would scarcely throw away their advantage of
position by seeking us out under the shadow of the cliffs when they
might securely await our attack and surprise us in turn. Then what
could they be about? I could just see the boat as it was lowered
over the side, and then immediately afterwards a second boat
followed, and men crowded into both and pulled away for the shore.
They came full into the moon's rays, I saw them land, cross the
beach, and disappear.
My first thought was that the vessel was delivered into our hands.
I reckoned that the boats had carried close on forty men; those who
were left would be no match for my tars; it seemed that my task was
made miraculously easy. But then, reflecting that the buccaneers
must have some errand on shore, it flashed upon me that their
destination was Penolver, and their object to plunder the house and
estate. There could be no other explanation of their quitting their
vessel at this dead time of night.
And here I felt a conflict between duty and inclination. The latter
prompted me to make off at once after the landing party and do what
might be done to save Lucy's property. But my orders were to deal
with the buccaneers, and I felt that I should not be justified in
interfering on behalf of a private person, however dear to me,
until my first duty was fulfilled.
It was a question then whether I should first attack the ship or
capture the boats on the strand. To accomplish the latter we should
have to overpower the men who had no doubt been left in charge, and
there would certainly be some noise that would alarm the men on
board the vessel, so that although the possession of the boats
would cut off the return of those who had landed, it would also
make the capture of the brig far more difficult. On all grounds it
seemed better to wait until the landing party had gone too far to
return in time to help their comrades, and then cut out the ship.
When that was in our hands I should be free to go ashore and set
off in pursuit of the ruffians who, I was convinced, were marching
for Lucy's house.
Ordering my men to put me alongside Punchard's boat, I arranged
with him the manner of our attack. I would make for the larboard,
he for the starboard side, and we would board as nearly as possible
at the same moment. This being settled I whispered the word to go,
and the two boats crept along the shore in shadow as silently as we
could until we came directly opposite the enemy's vessel. Then I,
having the tiller of the leading boat, brought her round and
steered her straight for the ship. 'Twas scarce to be hoped, in
spite of our muffled oars, that our approach should be wholly
unheard; and we were no more than ten fathoms distant when the
alarm was given. There was not sufficient way on the boat, the tide
being between flood and ebb, to bring us quite to the vessel, but
after a few more strokes I ordered the men to ship oars and seize
their arms, and we came under the brig's counter just in time to
escape a volley from the deck.
We swarmed up, half a 'dozen of us together, the men shouting and
cursing as Jack tars will, and met with a very warm reception. The
enemy was assembled in full force to beat us back, the watch below
having had time to tumble up, though to be sure they were half
dazed with sleep, and maybe drink. If they had been wide-awake I
will not answer for it that we should not have been repulsed; even
as it was, several of my crew were driven headlong back into the
boat and the sea. But the rest gained a footing on deck, and I
warrant you they kept it. We were at too close quarters to fire;
'twas a brief hand-to-hand encounter with cutlasses and clubbed
muskets, and what with the clashing of the weapons and the cries of
the men we made a great din and hurly burly.
But the enemy had lost their sole chance of success when they
failed to dislodge us before Joe's men arrived. 'Twas but a minute
before his boat came round the bows to the starboard side, and then
the crew swarmed up, with Joe at their head, and fell upon the rear
of our assailants. Thus hemmed in between our two parties the
buccaneers saw 'twas vain to contend longer. They flung down their
arms and cried (in many tongues) for quarter; and within five
minutes of our first setting foot on deck we had them securely
battened down below.
And now having accomplished, by fortune's favor, my first duty, I
resolved to make all speed after the fellows who had landed, hoping
fervently that the noise of our engagement had not reached their
ears and put them on their guard. There was hot work before us, I
well knew, if they numbered forty, as I had reason to believe. I
could not leave the brig wholly unguarded; yet I was loath to
diminish my own little company; in the end I decided to leave a
boatswain's mate in command of a party of five (three who had had a
ducking and two who had received slight hurts in the fight) and to
take Joe and the other eighteen hot-foot to Penolver.
I had left instructions with Fincham on our brig to sail into the
inlet in the morning to support us, and I told the boatswain's mate
to communicate with her as soon as she appeared. Thus I had no
anxiety about the security of the prize and the prisoners during my
absence.
These arrangements made, we set off for the shore, taking two of
the six men to row back to the brig the boats from which the
buccaneers had landed, which we found hauled up on the beach, but
no one in charge of them. Either they had been left unattended
because the leader had no fears for their safety, or the men set to
watch had taken alarm from our doings on the brig and had decamped.
I hoped they had not gone ahead of us to warn their fellows, which
indeed did not seem very likely, for they would be loath to venture
alone into a strange country. If the buccaneers had had warning of
what was happening behind them and hastened back, or if we should
miss them and they returned to the cove before us, they would at
any rate be unable to recapture their vessel, lacking their boats.
I reckoned that 'twas near two hours since the main body of the
buccaneers had departed; by this time they must be three parts of
the way to the house, if that was their goal; so we set off at a
great pace to follow them up. The sun was not yet risen, though the
darkness was lifting; and the air being cool, we could march
without discomfort.
We had not gone very far, and had come to where the track runs
between thin clumps of trees, when Joe Punchard suddenly left my
side and darted into the woodland. His bandiness was no check upon
his running. In a few seconds he was back, shoving before him a
seaman much larger than himself, having one hand upon his neck and
the other grasping his arm behind his back. He thus propelled the
man towards us at a quick trot, crying out to me:
"Here be one of the villains, sir, and I reckon 'twill be well to
make him speak."
Without slackening our pace I made the captive walk by my side and
questioned him. He had been left, as I suspected, in charge of the
boats, alone, and at the noise of our assault he had run up the
path, intending to overtake his comrades and give them warning of
what was happening. But being out of his element, his heart failed
him when he came into the wild wooded country, and he had been
skulking behind the trees when Joe espied him. He was a Frenchman.
I learned from him that some weeks before, his vessel had been
joined by an Englishman, who had proposed to his captain an
expedition to an estate some ten miles inland. The captain had been
at first reluctant to undertake the expedition; 'twas work for
landsmen, he said, not for sea dogs, and having heard rumors of a
buccaneer brig having been captured in that very cove by a horde of
negroes led by a white man, he was loath to leave his vessel. But
the Englishman had worked upon his fellow countrymen among the
buccaneers by tales of large sums of money lying in the house in
question; he had been steward of the estate, he said, and had been
forced to leave behind the hoard he had gathered, on being attacked
by a villainous enemy that coveted his wealth. But it was too
securely hidden to have been discovered by the interloper.
These compatriots of his had insisted on the captain holding a
council of the whole crew, at which the proposal was put to the
vote and carried; and the captain's last objections were overcome
by the promise of a quarter of the hidden money, the Englishman to
have a quarter, and the remainder to be divided among the crew.
My suspicion being so fully borne out, I forced the pace, for
though I foresaw a tough fight, my men were all sturdy fellows, who
were not like to feel any distress after a march of but ten miles.
I only half believed the story of hidden gold. The produce of the
estate would generally, I thought, be paid for, not in specie, but
in bills of exchange, which would be in the hands of duly appointed
agents at the port. It seemed more likely that Vetch had some other
motive: what, I could not guess. But whatever his design might be,
I counted myself very lucky in having come to the neighborhood in
time to frustrate it.
When we came within a mile of the estate we saw a dense cloud of
smoke rising into the air at the spot where, as I judged, the house
stood. This seemed to confirm my suspicion; Vetch was indulging his
venomous spite by burning the residence of Mistress Lucy. We sprang
forward at the double, and coming in sight of the house, I saw with
relief that it was yet intact, the smoke arising from the
outbuildings, which were already almost burned to the ground. Then
we heard musket shots, and as we drew nearer loud shouts. The
plantations were utterly deserted, there was not a negro visible of
whom we might ask what was toward; so we skirmished forward to a
place among the trees where the front of the house was in full
view.
The veranda was packed with men, and around them smoke was
swirling, but the smoke of musketry, not of a conflagration. Some
were firing at the shuttered windows, others hacking with axes at
the doors and walls. 'Twas clear that the attack had only just
begun, for the light timbers of the house could not long have
withstood the tremendous battering they were now receiving. It
amazed me that the assailants had met with any resistance at all;
McTavish and his overseers must be men of mettle to attempt to hold
the house against such odds. Even in the few seconds I allowed
myself to observe them I saw two or three of the buccaneers fall,
shot, I had no doubt, by the defenders within. But mingled with the
yells of rage there now arose a cry of triumph; a panel of one of
the doors had given way under the fierce strokes of an ax wielded
by a man whom I knew by some instinct to be the captain. 'Twas
manifest that we had come but just in time.
Calling to my men to follow me closely, I led them at the double
straight across the open grassy space that separated us from the
house. The buccaneers were so intent upon their work, and the noise
was so deafening, that they were not aware of us until we came
within a few yards of the veranda. Then a great shout of warning
was raised by those of the men who, having been wounded, had fallen
out of the fight. Some of the storming party swung round, caught
sight of us, and rushed to the head of the steps leading to the
veranda as we reached the foot. Luckily for us they had discharged
their muskets, whereas my men had theirs loaded, and had lit their
matches during the few moments we had waited at the edge of the
copse.
Knowing ourselves outnumbered by at least two to one, I cried to my
men to halt and fire. Several of the foremost of the buccaneers
fell, but those behind had not been hit, and when I gave the order
to rush up the steps they stood in close array with clubbed muskets
to meet us.
The next few moments were filled with such a wild commotion that
'twould be vain to try to describe all that happened. Joe Punchard,
seeing that it was impossible for all of us to mount by the steps,
had with great readiness of wit called off half a dozen men, and
they were now scrambling up the pillars supporting the veranda.
Finding my ascent blocked by the crowd, I slipped over the
balustrade, and, taking advantage of my great height, leapt at the
rail of the veranda and began to haul myself up.
At that desperate moment I saw one of the buccaneers with his
musket uplifted, preparing to bring it down with crushing force
upon me, and caught sight of Vetch behind him sword in hand. I
thought my end was come, for I had not yet secured my footing, and
was powerless to protect myself. But suddenly there was a deafening
report from the room beyond; the buccaneer pitched forward on to
the rail, his musket falling from his hand. My life was saved by
the man's body lurching against me, for being between Vetch and me,
he prevented my old enemy from using his sword arm.
With a desperate heave I threw the buccaneer against Vetch, and in
a trice was over the rail and on the veranda. Vetch's face was
fixed with terror, as, drawing my sword, I rushed at him. There was
no escape for him now; his slipperiness could not serve him; and I
will do him this justice, that, finding himself driven into a
corner, he stood against me and fought with a courage of frenzy.
But he was no swordsman; with a few simple passes I disarmed him,
and flinging his sword over the rail I caught him by the neck and
arm and held him fast.
Meanwhile the resistance of his hirelings had been broken. My
sturdy men had forced their way up the steps or climbed up the
pillars, not without loss, and the defenders in the room behind
firing a succession of shots, the buccaneers had scattered to right
and left to escape being taken in front and rear at once. Their
ranks being thus weakened my men pressed upon them with redoubled
vehemence. I caught sight of Joe Punchard in the melee, his red
head a flaming battle signal, wielding an iron belaying pin, every
swing of it leaving the enemy one man the less.
The buccaneer captain, with the furious courage for which the West
Indian freebooters have ever been notable, threw himself wherever
the fight was thickest, striving to stay the rout, with cutlass in
one hand and pistol in the other. He hurled his pistol at Joe, but
he saw the movement and nimbly ducked, to the discomfiture of the
man behind him, who received the weapon full in his chest (Joe
being short) and staggered back in a heap against the rail. Joe was
erect again in time to catch the captain's cutlass on his belaying
pin, which it struck with such force as to be shivered to
splinters. Ere the captain had time to spring back, a half swing
from Joe's formidable weapon caught him on the neck, and he fell
like a bullock under the pole ax.
This was the signal for a general stampede. With their leader gone
the buccaneers could not rally, and every man sought how best to
save his skin. Some tumbled down the steps, others swung themselves
over the rail and dropped to the ground, and as they rushed this
way and that to find safety, they were pursued not merely by my
men, but by crowds of yelling negroes, who had emerged from their
concealment with wondrous rapidity when they saw the tide of battle
turn against the buccaneers, and were now ready enough to join in
the shouting.
The veranda being clear of the enemy, the half-battered door was
thrown open, and to my amazement Dick Cludde came towards me with
Mr. McTavish, three overseers, Uncle Moses, and Noah, all with
smoking muskets in their hands. A bare word of greeting passed
between us, for Noah, seeing Vetch helpless in my grasp, sprang
forward with a shout of savage joy and but for my intervention
would have plunged his knife into the wretched man. Fending him
off, I pushed Vetch into the room, and shut the door, keeping out
all but McTavish and Cludde.
Vetch was pale and discomposed, his lips twitching, his eyes
ranging restlessly between Cludde and me. I felt no pity for him.
"This man," I said to McTavish, "led his ruffians here under
promise of a share in a large sum of money they would find. Is
there any truth in it?"
"There is no that much money here at this present time," replied
McTavish, "but when I came back to the estate a while ago and
looked into matters, I couldna just make out where two thousand
pounds had gone. 'Twas in specie, too, for I happened to know that
the coin had been sent up from Spanish Town--a verra large sum to
keep in an up-country house."
"Where is that money?" I asked, turning to Vetch.
He was more composed now, and his wonted look of alertness had
returned.
"Let me understand," says Vetch. "You accuse me of--"
"Of appropriating money that did not belong to you," I said,
filling up his pause.
"A serious accusation," he said, drawing his brows together. "And
when did this appropriation take place?"
"We are not playing a game," I said impatiently. "Where is the
money which you stole, and which you used as a lure for your
ruffians?"
"We are not playing a game, as you say," he replied, becoming more
and more collected as I waxed hotter. "You accuse me of stealing, I
answer, when did I steal, and what are your proofs?"
"You heard what Mr. McTavish said," I replied, with difficulty
curbing my anger. "Two thousand pounds are not accounted for; you
were here when the money was received; it disappeared during the
time you held Mr. McTavish's place; you bring your desperadoes here
to secure it. 'Tis useless fencing with us."
"During the time I held Mr. McTavish's place," he repeated
musingly. "That was for several months last year, until the day
when the owner of this property came of age--the day when Mr.
Humphrey Bold by trickery gained access to this house and
threatened my life. Has it gone from your recollection that I held
Mr. McTavish's place in right of a power of attorney from the legal
guardian of the estate, and that whatever I may have done I was
empowered to do? Does it not occur to you that the money you charge
me with stealing was appropriated to the payment of the men whom I
felt impelled to engage for the defense of this property against
the unlawful designs of Mr. Humphrey Bold?
"You will bear me out, Mr. Cludde, when I remind you that the owner
of the estate had fled from her lawfully-appointed guardian, aided
and abetted in her flight, I doubt not, by this upstart himself. I
am ready to account for my administration of the property to Sir
Richard Cludde, and to no one else, and I say you have no right to
call in question anything I may have done in his name."
The fellow's impudence fairly took my breath away. For some moments
I could do nothing but look at him, and he returned my gaze without
blinking, the old sneer playing about his lips. The brazen coolness
with which he ignored his recent attack on the house and sought to
put me in the wrong filled me with sheer amazement. I began to
wonder again whether, after all, the tale he had told to the
buccaneers was a lie, and he had come back to the house with no
further design than to wreak his spite upon it.
And yet this could hardly be, for he could easily have set fire to
it, and then the question flashed upon my mind suddenly, why had he
pressed home the attack on this particular room, when all the rest
of the house lay open to him? Did not that point to the probability
that the money he had spoken of was actually here, in this room?
'Twas vain to bandy more words with the fellow. I called in Joe
Punchard and one of my seamen, and bade them take him to the
kitchen and tie him up. He flushed and bit his lip when I gave this
order, but he saw 'twas folly to resist. When he had gone I told
the others what I had been thinking, and suggested that we should
search the room. A bureau stood against the wall; this was the only
article of furniture in which money could be secured, and Mr.
McTavish, who used it constantly, assured me that there was but a
small sum in one of its drawers, which he had himself placed there.
We looked around in perplexity. The walls were of wood, not of lath
and plaster, so that there were no nooks and crannies in which he
could have bestowed his hoard. The floor also was of single
planking, forming the roof of the room below. There seemed no
possible place of concealment here. Could there be any spot on the
veranda that might have served his purpose?
I went out; the veranda was empty, the men who had been injured
(and some who were dead) having been removed. If my reasoning was
correct, the hiding place must be on the inner side, otherwise the
assailants could have obtained what they came to seek without
attacking the room. We looked carefully along the base of the wall
where it met the floor of the veranda at first in vain.
But just as I was almost prepared to give up the search and try
elsewhere I noticed that at one spot the nails of the flooring
seemed newer than at other parts. Calling to Cludde, with his
assistance I prized up one of the boards, and the secret was
instantly revealed. The board rested on one of the broad wooden
pillars supporting the veranda. A hole had been cut down the center
of the pillar, and there lay the missing money--doubloons and
silver dollars.
Leaving McTavish to gather them up and count them, Cludde and I
went down to the kitchen. Vetch was tied to a chair (as Joe had
been tied months before), and Joe was sitting over against him,
with a cutlass on his knees. I told Vetch briefly that the money
was found.
Even now his bravado did not desert him. He repeated we had no
right to call in question any action of his and that none but Sir
Richard could claim an account of his stewardship. I did not reply,
as I might have done, that the money, being found in the house
after Mistress Lucy had come of age, was patently hers, and in
attempting to recover it he was no better than a common
housebreaker. I bade Punchard collect our men in readiness to march
back to the brig, and strictly charged him that he should have
every care of Vetch on the way.
Then I saw a shadow of fear cross the villain's face. He knew that
to brazen it out longer would avail him nothing, and 'twas his
inward vision of the hangman, I doubt not, that caused him to go
white to the lips.
Cludde went from the room to gather his few possessions in
preparation for our despatch. Vetch struggled with himself for a
moment, then said huskily:
"Bold, you must let me go. I will make it worth your while. Your
father's will--is not destroyed; let me go--and I will tell you
where it is."
"I will make no terms with you," I said.
"But what do you gain by refusing?" he cried. "You are only a
lieutenant; promotion is slow; money would help you on. You have
your revenge on me--and lose your property, for I vow I will tell
you nothing unless you let me go."
"I would not let you go for a king's ransom," I said. "The wrongs
you have done me are nothing; but for your villainy I should not be
a king's officer today. I could almost forgive you. But nothing in
the world could persuade me to forget the wrongs you have done to a
helpless woman--the indignities you put upon her, the villainous
designs you harbored against her. No, you have done your rascally
work--you shall take your wages."
He said no more then, but presently, when Cludde returned he made
an appeal to him.
"Dick," he said, "you and I are bound by long friendship--"
"Which you have killed," said Cludde, interrupting him.
"But you will not forget all the past--our school days, the merry
times we had then and after, all I have done with you, and for you.
For a dozen years we were as close as brothers; you won't turn
against me now?"
"I know, but--Lucy--'twas unpardonable," Cludde stammered in great
discomfort. "I'm not spotless--done things I am ashamed of--but you
carried things too far--you wanted to force her to marry you--"
"And do you think she will marry you now, you fool?" cried Vetch,
with a flash of his old fiery temper.
"I could wish her to wed a better man," says poor Cludde.
"Even so good as Mr. Humphrey Bold," says Vetch with a sneer.
Cludde looked at me. If he intended to say anything 'twas prevented
by the entrance of Joe Punchard with news that all was ready.
"Bring him along," I said, glancing towards Vetch.
Joe unstrapped his legs, leaving his arms still bound, and they
followed us from the room.
We set off on our seaward march, having just time to regain the
brig before the day became oppressive. We took with us, as
prisoners, such of the buccaneers as had been caught; what became
of the rest I never knew. Vetch marched with them, amid a guard of
our men.
On the way I learned from Cludde how it happened that he was at the
house at a time when, but for him, the buccaneers' attack might
have been successful before I came on the scene. Being convalescent
from his wound, and learning that Mistress Lucy wished to consult
Mr. McTavish about selling the estate (for she had determined to
carry through the negotiations begun by Vetch), he had offered to
carry a message to the steward, intending to remain at the house
for a few days for change of air. He had seized the opportunity
also of bringing to Uncle Moses and Noah charters of freedom from
their mistress, in reward for their services to her and to hers.
Cludde insisted on her accepting from him the five hundred dollars
which I had promised Noah for his life, and she handed it back as a
present for the negro.
We were talking about all these strange things that had happened,
when suddenly we heard a commotion at the head of the column.
Running hastily forward, I saw Punchard and several of my men
rushing at full speed across a tract of scrubby land in pursuit of
Vetch. He had persuaded the buccaneer beside him, whose hands had
not been bound, to cut his bonds.
I joined in the chase; Cludde hung back; I think that after all he
would not have been ill pleased, for old friendship's sake, if
Vetch had got away. Vetch had had but a few yards' start, but he
was a swift runner, and I doubted much whether any of us could
overtake him. We could not bring him down with a shot, for my men,
though their muskets were loaded, had not kindled their matches, so
that before they could fire he was out of range. Foremost of the
pursuers was Joe, bounding along like a deer, furious (as he
afterwards told me) because he regarded the escape as due to his
own negligence.
We had raced on for maybe half a mile, and still had not lessened
the distance between us and the fugitive, when I suddenly saw him
sink above his ankles into the earth. He uttered a terrible shriek;
the man running beside me, who knew something of the country, cried
out "A cockpit!" in accents of horror and stopped short. But the
agonizing cries of the poor wretch who was sinking inch by inch
into the horrible hole whose treacherous surface had beguiled him
were more than I could endure. 'Twas not a death for the foulest
villain on earth. Heedless of the warning shouts of my crew, I
dashed forward, hoping to reach Vetch in time to rescue him ere he
was sucked under.
To venture directly on the spot where he was sinking would, I knew,
be certain death to me. But when I reached the edge of the cockpit
I flung myself on my face, thinking with my outstretched arms to
seize him. He turned his head and saw me. To this day I shudder as
I see again the anguish, the mute imploring entreaty, that spoke
out of his ghastly features.
I could not reach him.
I crawled forward, and my hands began to sink. Joe Punchard behind
was shouting to recall me. Vetch was up to his shoulders. Half my
body was on solid ground, and with a prayer on my lips I was edging
forward inch by inch to make one final effort, when I felt my feet
held fast; I was hauled back with great violence, just as Vetch,
with a scream that rang in my ears and ran through my dreams for
weeks afterwards and haunts me still, disappeared forever.