CHAPTER IV._Captain Kyd; or, The Wizard of the Sea. Vol. II

"She saw the noble in the peasant's garb,

And dared to love--nay, more, she dared to brave

The world's dread frown, to follow him afar

Amid the danger of the stormy wave."

"He bore a charmed life. O'er earth and sea

No fiend so feared, no spirit dread as he."

An hour after sunrise the pirate vessel had gained an offing, and, under

all her light canvass, wafted by a fresh wind from the northwest, was

running the coast down, leaving the Highlands of Neversink on her

starboard quarter. On her deck stood Kyd, with his glass in his hands,

with which every few minutes he would sweep the horizon, and then turn

and walk the deck. It was a bright, sunny morning; the crested waves

leaped merrily about the prow and glanced in the sun as if tipped with

gold.

The vessel was a low-built brigantine, with a flush deck, on either

side of which was ranged a battery of six carronades--in all twelve

guns. Eighty men, half of whom were blacks, that composed her crew, were

variously occupied forward and in the waist, though many of them were

lying listlessly between the guns. They were a desperate band, with hard

looks, and the aspects of men accustomed to crime and inured to danger.

Every man was armed with pistols and cutlass, while racks of these

weapons, with the addition of boarding pikes and harquebusses, were

ranged about the masts and bulwarks. Order and discipline prevailed

throughout the wild company, and, save the bucanier-like character and

build of the vessel, it differed not materially in its internal

arrangements from a king's ship. The bold spirit that kept these

inferior and scarcely less fierce beings in subjection walked the deck

with a determined tread, now bending his eyes in thought, now lifting

them, flashing with excitement, towards the sea, and rapidly scanning

its wide circle. He was dressed in the same picturesque costume that he

wore when he first appeared in the presence of Kate Bellamont at the

White Hall, though his sword lay upon the companion-way instead of being

sheathed at his belt. After taking a longer survey than usual of the

horizon, and turning away with an exclamation of disappointment, he was

addressed by a short, square-built, swarthy man, with large mustaches

and long, matted hair that hung low over his eyes and descended to his

broad shoulders, who had hitherto been silently pacing the leeward side

of the deck.

"What's in the wind, captain? You seem to steer as if in chase! You gave

your orders so briefly to get under weigh, and have loved your own

thoughts since so well as to forget to speak. I have not even asked our

course."

"We are full three leagues from our anchorage, and, if you have no

objections, suppose we open our sailing orders."

"You are right, Loff," said Kyd, smiling at the blunt address of his

first mate, "Listen," he said, walking aft, followed by the mate, where

they could speak without being overheard by the helmsman. "Now learn my

plans!"

"I have half guessed them."

"What?"

"Some Indiaman, ballasted with guilders, you have heard of in shore."

"Far better than a Spanish argosy. I pursue a rival. Thou art no

stranger to an amour pursued by me some years ago with a fair and noble

maid of Erin. Before I took the seas I was her only and accepted lover.

She is now in the port we left this morning."

"And so you are running away from her."

"No. As some fiend would have it, rumours of my deeds, blown far and

wide, at last reached her ears. She lends them to the tale. And when

last eve I hastened to her arms, she meets me cold as an icicle; but

soon gets warm, charges me with my misdeeds, and at length, taking fire

with her own heat, breaks out in full blaze, dips her tongue inch deep

in gall, and paints me blacker than the devil."

"Just like these sort o' craft," remarked Loff, dryly.

"This is not all. I found she had plugged the hole in her broken heart

with another lover sound and hale."

"And who was this interloper?"

"No less a cavalier than that Fitzroy of the British navy whom we took

by stratagem in the Mediterranean, slaying his crew; and who afterward

escaped us by swimming a league to the shore."

"I remember him. A proper youth for a woman's eye."

"It shall ne'er look on him again," said Kyd, with fierceness. "He told

the story of his escape, confirmed that which before was rumour--"

"And so she put you out her heart and took him in."

"Even so."

"That's what I couldn't stand, captain."

"I'll have revenge. Besides, I think I have an old quarrel to settle

with him, if he be the same Fitzroy who escaped from us. Did I not tell

thee then he reminded me of one whom I had known under peculiar

circumstances in my boyish days?"

"You did," said the mate, after a moment's thought; "and that you said

you would, in the morning, see if your suspicions were true."

"And in the morning the bird had flown. It is this suspicion that, from

the first mention of his name last night, added to a new object I have

in view (which, if he be the one I suspect he is, cannot be accomplished

without his death), that sends me in pursuit of him. 'Tis rumoured that

he whom I mean was lost at sea; but, if he escaped us by swimming a

league, he may have escaped also at that time."

"Where does he hail from now?"

"He is master of the brig of war that brought the new governor to the

province; and, hearing of us, with laudable ambition set sail, directly

after his arrival, in pursuit of us. He is now on his return, as his

leave of absence has expired. I learn by a skipper of a Carolina

schooner I hailed in the harbour as I passed him in my boat, that a

vessel answering his description was seen three days ago becalmed off

the Capes of Delaware."

"Shiver my mizzen! we will soon fall in with him if he is steering back

to port."

"If the 'Silver Arrow' hang not like a sleuth-hound on his track, there

is no virtue in wind or canvass."

"What is the name of the chase?" demanded Loff, taking a deliberate

survey of the horizon with a weather-beaten spyglass he held in his

hand.

"The 'Ger-Falcon,' I am told; and this name, for certain reasons,

increases my suspicions that this Fitzroy is he I suspect. If so, I have

an old score to balance with him. It is this that adds point to my

revenge, and which has led me to seek aid of earth and hell to

accomplish my desires."

The "Silver Arrow," bound on its mission of vengeance and crime,

continued for the remainder of the day steadily to sail on its southerly

course, keeping sufficiently far from land to command a scope of vision

on either side nearly forty miles in breadth, so that any vessel

following the shore northwardly, if within ten or twelve leagues of the

land, could not escape observation.

Two hours before sunset of the same day, in the entrance of one of the

numerous inlets that, like a chain of marine lakes, line the eastern

shore of Jersey, lay a brig of war at anchor, her upper sails clewed

down and her topsails furled. She was lying so close to the wooded

shore, that the branches of the trees that grew on the verge of its high

banks hung over and mingled with the rigging, while from the main yard

it was easy to step on the rocks that towered above the water. On her

decks lay several deer recently killed, while sailors were engaged in

bringing on board, across a staging that extended from the ship to the

shore, a noble stag, with antlers like a young tree. On the summit of a

rock that overlooked the scene stood two young men habited as hunters,

one leaning on a rifle, the other with a hunting-spear in his hand. Two

noble stag-hounds lay panting at their feet. The scene that lay

outspread around them was picturesque as it was boundless.

On the east, rolling its waves towards a silvery beach of sand that

stretched north and south many leagues, spread the ocean, without a sail

to relieve its majestic bosom, which, save here and there a gull with

snowy wing skimming its breast, was as lonely and silent as on the day

it was created. North, extended a vast forest of foliage, the surface of

which, as the winds swept over it wave after wave, was not less restless

than the sea. West, lay interminable woods; and nearer slept the lagoon,

running northwardly and southwardly in a line with the coast on the

outside, broken into many little lakes by green islands, on the sides of

which browsed numerous deer. Immediately at their feet was the vessel of

war, which, with its busy decks, gave life and variety to the scene.

The two who were enjoying the prospect strikingly contrasted in

appearance. One of them was dark and strikingly handsome, with black,

penetrating eyes, and a fine mouth characterized by much energy of

expression. His hair was jetty black; and, parted on his forehead, fell

in natural ringlets about his neck, descending even to his shapely

shoulders. His figure was noble and commanding, and his air strikingly

dignified. His age could not have been above twenty-three. There was a

hue on his cheek, and a certain negligent ease in his air and manner,

that showed that his profession was that of the sea. Yet his costume was

by no means nautical. He leaned on a short rifle, with a black velvet

hunter's bonnet in his hand, shaded by a sable plume. He wore a green

embroidered frock, with buff leggins of dressed deerskin richly worked

by some Indian maid, and on his feet were buskins of dressed doeskin.

Around his waist was a black leathern belt containing a hunting-knife,

with a drop or two of fresh blood still upon its blade, and a

hunting-horn curiously carved and richly mounted.

His companion was less in height and of lighter make. His face was less

browned, nay, scarcely tinged by the suns that had left their shadows

upon the other's cheek. His forehead, though partly concealed beneath a

hunting-cap of green cloth from which drooped a snow-white feather, was

so fair and beautiful, that through the transparent skin of the temples

were seen the azure veins tinting the surface with the most delicate

lights of blue. The eyes were of a dark hazel, with a merry light

dancing in them, which gave promise both of ready wit and good nature,

and his cheeks had a bright, glowing colour, doubtless caused by the

recent exercise of the chase. His mouth was extremely beautiful, with a

winning smile playing about it like sunlight of the heart. The chin

beneath was exquisitely rounded, neither too full nor too square, but of

that faultless symmetry of which a sculptor would have made a model.

About his neck and shoulders flowed glossy waves of auburn hair, while

his upper lip was graced by a luxuriant mustache of the same, or,

perhaps, of a little darker hue. He wore no cravat, and the collar of

his green hunting-coat was turned back, displaying a throat and neck of

dazzling whiteness and beauty. Through the bosom of the frock, which was

folded back, appeared linen of the finest cambric, richly tamboured, as

if done by the fair fingers of some tasteful maiden. The wristbands over

his finely shaped and gloved hands were tamboured in the same beautiful

manner, and fringed with lace of the most costly texture. Around his

waist was bound a crimson sash for a hunting-belt, in which was stuck a

_couteau du chasse_, with a hilt sparkling with jewels. Oriental

trousers, ample in width and of snowy whiteness, fringed at the bottom

with tassels depending from a hem of network, descended just below the

calf of the leg, between which and the ankle appeared flesh-coloured

silken hose of the finest texture and material. Boots of dressed

doeskin, soft and smooth as a glove, nicely fitted the feet and ankles,

and, divided at the top in two parts, were turned over like the buskins

of his companion, but, unlike his, fringed with gold and ornamented with

tassels. In his hand he carried a light hunting-spear, which he held

with a spirited air, braced against the rock, his attitude being at the

same time graceful and gallant. His age appeared to be less than

seventeen. The two had gazed upon the noble and extended prospect spread

out before them for some time in silence, when the elder, turning to his

companion with a condescending yet courteous air, spoke.

"A fair scene, Edwin! I scarcely know which impresses me most, the

majesty of the ocean or that of these boundless forests of the New

World. Both are alike illimitable. Perhaps the sea has more of the

sublime, for it is associated with the tempest in its terrible power,

and its ever-heaving bosom seems to me the pulse of the earth."

"You give language to the thoughts which were passing in my own mind.

The world seems to me a vast being ever--its flowing rivers like veins

and arteries in the human system--its subterranean fires like the

passions slumbering in our hearts--its ocean heaving like a bosom lifted

by a heart beneath it. See! the stag has leaped the bulwarks into the

water!"

His companion turned and beheld the noble monarch of the wood, who had

broke away from his captors at a bound, parting the flood with his broad

breast, and swimming across the lagoon towards the opposite shore,

tossing his branching antlers in the air as if in defiance, and

rejoicing at obtaining his wild freedom. A dozen pistols and handguns

were instantly levelled at him, when the taller of the two cried out

from the cliff,

"Hold! Fire not, on your lives! He has nobly won his freedom!"

Every weapon was lowered obedient to his voice, and proudly the

enfranchised animal breasted his way towards a wooded isle a few hundred

yards off.

"We have venison enough, and the princely creature shall escape," he

added, turning to the other. "By the bow of Diana! we have well done for

a four hours' hunt with but a brace of dogs--though ye are noble brutes,

both Chasseur and Di!" The dogs seemed to comprehend instinctively his

words of praise, and, with a glad whine sliding along to his feet, at a

sign of encouragement bounded upon him with joyful barks. "Hist! be

still! Ye are over rude because I give ye a word and a nod."

"They must come in for a portion of our thanks from the earl when he

gets his game."

"And a feast they shall have, for they have shown their true Irish

blood."

"You speak of Ireland often, sir. You must love it."

"I do." He then said quickly, "You alone must he thank, Edwin, that he

gets even a haunch instead of nearly a score of fat bucks such as strew

our decks yonder. It was well thought of, as this bucanier had escaped

us on this cruise, to put in at this famous deer island, and, by

supplying the governor's table for the month to come, make him forget

our failure. I would the stag had not escaped, nevertheless, for I would

gladly have made a present of it to his fair daughter. You sigh, Edwin!"

"Did I?"

"By the bow of Dan Cupid, did you! You are full young to think of

maiden's love."

"Am I?" said the youth, absently, and with an abstracted air.

"Truly thou must be in love, Edwin," said the other, with a kindly

laugh, that became his manly and open features. "I marvel who it may be.

You shake your head! Well," he added, laughing, "so long as it is not my

noble Kate, I care not who it be. I knew a maiden once whom I would have

loved--so gentle, fair, and good, besides nobleborn and generous was

she--if I had not loved anoth--"

"Who--who this maiden?" he said, abruptly interrupting him, and laying

his hand upon the arm of the speaker with surprising energy.

"Thou art over quick in thy speech," said the other, turning and

speaking coldly.

"Nay, pardon me, sir, I did forget my station," said the other, bending

his head and crossing his hands upon his bosom.

"Nay, Edwin, you go too far! I do not like this manner, and this, I

know not what to call it, way you have of assuming an attitude, when

reproved, becoming a bashful girl rather than the manhood thy mustache,

if not thy years, challenges thee to assert. I will answer thy question.

It was a fair and gentle creature, whom in my boyhood I knew only as the

humble sailor knows the stars that burn nightly above him. I gazed on

her afar off, and dared not approach her nearer, for she was noble, and,

as thou knowest, I was lowly born. She was gentle, kind, and good;

gratitude fills my heart when I speak of her, for I owe her much; she

first awakened ambition in me, and pointed me the way to make myself

noble. Her eloquence I shall never forget. Its effect upon me is

indelible. I will some day tell thee how first I met her, and the

interest she took in me."

"Did you see her often?"

"No. But once we spoke together! But that once produced the seeds of the

fruit of happiness I since have gathered."

"Strange that seeing her but once should have had such an effect upon

thee."

"It was like sunlight first let in upon the man's vision who is born

blind."

"If such the influence she held over you--if thus you speak of her now,

why did not her image take a deeper hold in your heart--nay, why did you

not love her, sir?"

"Because I loved another."

The youth sighed, and then said, "What motive induced her to take this

interest in you?"

"Save that it was prompted by her own gentle and good spirit, I know

not," he said with frankness.

"May it not have been love?" said the other, with hesitation.

The elder started, and turned and gazed on the speaker an instant with

surprise before he replied:

"Love! How could she love a lowborn boy like me? 'Twas pity, rather."

"Nay, 'twas love."

"Nay, I will not have the vanity to think so, nor will I do her motives

so much wrong."

"Said you she was fair?"

"As maiden ever was."

"Gentle?"

"As a seraph, if it should come to earth to habit in woman's form."

"Good?"

"As an angel."

"Fair, gentle, and good?"

"All three."

"And yet you loved her not?"

"I loved _another_! therefore, if she had been indeed an angel, I could

not have loved, though I might have worshipped her."

The young man bent his head low till the snowy plume hid his face, and a

deep sigh escaped his bosom. "Her thou wouldst have me love, then?" he

asked, after a moment's silence, during which the eyes of the other were

habitually scanning the horizon.

"I would."

"Wherefore?"

"Because I love thee!"

"Love me!" he cried, starting.

"As a brother do I. In truth this chase has fevered you, and you are not

yourself, Edwin. Let us aboard!"

They were about to descend to the ship, when the elder, glancing once

more around the horizon, suddenly fixed his eyes in a northwardly

direction, and, after a moment's steady look, exclaimed,

"A sail!"

The younger arrested his descending footstep, and also turned his eyes

in the same direction, and discerned a white dot on the extreme verge of

water and sky, the stationary appearance of which, though neither form

nor outline was distinguishable at the distance it was from them,

indicated it to be a vessel.

"It may be a merchantman!" he said.

"It may be the bucanier! Craft of any sort are so scarce in these

colonial seas at this season, that the chances are full three to one for

the pirate. We must on board and make sail."

As he spoke they descended, followed by their dogs, the precipitous

rock, and the next moment stood on the vessel's deck. A few brief orders

were given by the elder of the two, who, it was apparent, was the

commander of the brig; the anchor was weighed, the topsails loosened and

set, and, catching a light breeze that blew through the mouth of the

lagoon seaward, she soon left the wooded shores, and rode gallantly over

the billows of the open sea in the direction of the sail they had seen

from the cliff. What had first appeared a white speck on the rim of the

sea now grew into shape and form, and, with the glass, the upper sails

of a brigantine could be seen down to her courses, her hull still being

beneath the horizon.

Swiftly the brig of war cut the blue waves, all her light and drawing

sails set. Her armed deck, on each side of which bristled seven eighteen

pounders, with their armament, presented an appearance of that order and

propriety which, even on the eve of battle, characterizes the interior

of a British ship of war. The weather-beaten tars, who had all been

called to quarters, leaned over the forward bulwarks, and watched with

interest the distant sail, but made their remarks in a subdued tone to

each other. All was ready for action in case the stranger should prove

to be an enemy. The helmsman, with his eyes now dropped on the compass,

now directed ahead towards the sail, stood cool and collected at his

post; the officer of the deck paced with a thoughtful brow fore and aft

in the waist, every few seconds stopping to survey the chase, while the

junior officers, each at his station, silently regarded the object,

their eyes sparkling with excitement as each moment brought them nearer

to it. In a magnificent upper cabin or poop, constructed on the

quarter-deck, and gorgeous with curtains of crimson, sofas, ottomans,

and rich Turkish rugs laid over the floor with latticed windows opening

on every side to the water, were the two hunters. They had now changed

their costume for one more appropriate to the sea and the quarter-deck

of an armed vessel. The youthful captain wore the undress uniform of his

rank and profession, his hunting-knife replaced by a small sword, and

his bugle by a brace of pistols. He was standing by the window with his

eyes upon the vessel ahead. The other had substituted a plain suit of

black velvet for his former rich costume, and an elegant rapier hung at

one side and a silver inkhorn at the other. He was seated at an ebony

escritoir writing, and, from his pursuit and apparel, evidently held the

rank of private secretary.

"He is standing south by east, Edwin," said the youthful captain,

turning from the lattice and addressing the youth with animation; "we

shall intercept him by sunset if this wind holds. But methinks," he

added with interest, fixing his eyes upon him as, with his rich hair

drooping about his cheeks, he leaned, forgetful of his occupation, over

the sheet, "that of late you are getting sad and absent. This station

does not suit your ambition, perhaps. You would be an officer instead of

a clerk."

"Nay, sir, I would be as I am; I am not discontent so that I can be

near--" here he checked himself, bent his head to his writing, and did

not look up until he fell a hand gently laid upon his shoulder. He

started, while the colour came and went in his cheek with confusion, and

he shrunk instinctively away.

"Beshrew me, fair youth! I know not what to make of thee," said the

young captain, taking a seat beside him, and resting one arm familiarly

upon his shoulder. "Thou hast some deep, untold grief at thy heart. If

it be a love secret--a tale of love unrequited--of cruel maids and

broken promises," he said, gayly, "why, then, out with it; make me your

confidant; I will tell you how to make her heart ache, and to wish thee

back again. Come, Edwin, unburden thy thoughts. Unspoken, they will feed

upon the cheek and eye, and the grave have thee ere thou hast attained

manhood."

The youthful secretary was silent a few moments, and then said, with an

attempt to smile,

"I have a tale of love, but not of mine."

"I will hear it, and then tell thee if I think it thine or no."

"There was once a noble maiden, the heiress of an earldom, who loved a

peasant youth, handsome and brave, and the nobility he gat not by birth

nature endowed him with. The maiden was proud and independent of spirit,

and loved him for himself--for title, wealth, and rank she thought not!"

"A generous creature. And this humble youth loved her in return?"

"No."

"No! then, by Heaven, he was ignoble indeed, and her love was ill

placed, poor lady!"

"Nay--he _loved another_!"

"Ha, was it so?" he said, with a peculiar smile; "then I must pardon

him! But did she tell him of her love?"

"Never!"

"Who was this village maiden that supplanted her?"

"She was no lowly maid! but noble as herself."

"He was full ambitious! Did she love him in return?"

"Nay, not then," said he, hesitatingly.

"Edwin, you are giving my very history! You hang your head! What, is it

I of whom you speak?" he exclaimed, with animated interest.

"I gave no name."

"Nay," he said, blushing, "I will not think, though the tale tallies in

some parts so well with my own, that a noble maiden e'er could have

regarded me with sentiments beneath her station. Go on."

"Time went on, and her love grew. Unseen, unknown, she exerted her

influence, and had him (for he took to the seas) elevated from rank to

rank, though his own prowess won for him each grade ere he rose to it;

at length he became a captain. Many years had elapsed in the interval,

and she had not seen him; but, every few months, rumour trumpeted to her

his gallant deeds, and in her secret heart she rejoiced with all the

pride of love."

"And still she loved him?"

"Better and better. Absence only increased the intensity of her passion.

At length she resolved to see him, and, unknown to him, see if she could

not win his love; for she believed, silly girl, that time had caused him

to forget his first passion for the noble maid who had disdained him for

his low birth. At length an opportunity presented itself that held out

to her the prospect of accomplishing her wish. A nobleman related to her

was appointed governor of a distant province, and this youth was

appointed to the command of the vessel that should convey him to his

government. The noble was the father of the highborn maiden he loved.

Love roused _her_ fears. She resolved to go in the same ship, and be a

check upon the renewal of his love."

"Your story interests me. Do not pause. Go on!"

"So she disguised herself as a page, and, under the pretence of going

to Ireland, to spend a few weeks with a maiden aunt, came on board his

vessel, and offered herself as his secretary!"

"Edwin, this is a wondrous tale!" he exclaimed, starting to his feet

with surprise. "Yet no, it cannot be," he said, half aloud, after

steadily looking at him a moment. "Proceed!"

"She was received and sailed with him. Love excuses much. Yet her

friends were on board with her, and it was not as if she had thrown

herself on this rash adventure alone. The maiden that he had loved in

youth he wooed and won. She knew him not as the humble youth. He had

taken another name with his better fortunes. In the noble-looking

officer that commanded the ship, and whose gallant name had filled the

world, she did not recognise the humble lad whom she had known in

earlier years. The disguised girl witnessed the progress of their love

with a breaking heart."

"Poor maiden! She should have made known her love, and it might have met

return."

"No, no, she could not. Yet she could not leave him, even when she knew

he cared not for her--knew not of her existence, or that he was loved by

her with such enduring attachment."

"Had it been my case, I would have loved her, had she made herself

known, for her very devotion. Love begets love, and so does gratitude. I

could not but have loved her."

"Nay--if you loved another?"

"Not while I loved that other. But if that love had met no return, or

afterward were crushed and blighted by adverse circumstances, then my

heart would have turned to this gentle, devoted, heroic maiden, whose

love had been so strong as to lead her to idolize me, and follow me in

disguise even over the sea."

"Wouldst thou have done this?"

"By my troth! would I. I half love the maiden now, of whose devotedness

you speak so eloquently. If it were my case, Kate would have a dangerous

rival. I never could resist so much womanly devotion. Not I, Edwin."

"Would you not rather despise her?"

"No. True love is sacred and honourable ever."

"When it o'ersteps the bounds of maidenly propriety?"

"Yes, Edwin, in a case like this of which you speak."

At this instant the officer of the deck reported that the strange sail

had suddenly changed her course from the southeast, and was standing

towards them.

The captain seized his glass, and, examining her, said with animation,

"Her hull has lifted, and she shows a tier of ports. A red riband

running around her bends! polacca rigged, and courses up, with a bow as

sharp as a canoe! It is 'the Kyd,'" he cried, with joyful surprise.

Instantly all was animation and intense excitement on board. The guns

were double-shotted, the hammock nettings were stowed closer and firmer

than usual, hand-grenades lined the decks, and every missile and weapon

of offence or defence that could be pressed into service on so desperate

an encounter as that anticipated, was brought forth and placed ready for

use. All that skill and determination to conquer could devise was done;

and, under a steady but light wind on her larboard quarter, she fast

neared the stranger, who also was observed to shorten sail and make

other demonstrations of a hostile character. They continued to approach

each other until less space than a mile separated them, when the

youthful captain, who, with his trumpet in his hand, had taken his place

in the main rigging, shouted,

"Hoist the ensign, and pitch a shot from the weather-bow gun across his

fore-foot."

The broad flag of England instantly ascended to the peak, and unfolded

its united crosses displayed on its blood-red field. At the same time a

column of flame shot from her sides, and the vessel shook with the loud

report of the gun.

"It has dashed the spray into their faces," said the captain, who had

followed the path of the ball with the glass at his eye. "Ha! by Heaven,

there goes the black flag, with its silver arrow emblazoned on it. _It

is Kyd._ He has fired!"

A puff of smoke at the instant curled up from the side of the pirate

vessel, as it now proved to be beyond question, and the next moment a

twelve pound shot, with a roaring noise, buried itself deep in the

mainmast, twenty feet above the deck. The spar trembled from the shock,

and even the vessel reeled to one side from the force of the iron

projectile.

"This is an unlucky hit. It has weakened our best spar! We must have the

weather-gauge of him, and run down and lay him by the board if he is so

good a marksman at a long shot," said the captain.

No more shots were fired, and the vessels were now within hailing

distance, when, cheering his crew by animated words as well as by his

example, and irresistibly communicating to them a portion of his own

spirit, the young captain stood by the helmsman, and directed him to

steer so as to strike the advancing pirate with the larboard bow just

forward of the fore-chains. He ordered the hand-grenades to be in

readiness to be thrown on board as soon as they should come near enough,

and the grappling-irons to be kept clear and cast at an instant's

notice, while in two dense parties, commanded by the chief officers, the

boarders were drawn up, prepared to leap on board cutlass in hand.

Swiftly and with appalling stillness the two hostile barks approached

each other, both close hauled on the wind, and moving at nearly equal

speed. It was within half an hour of sunset, and the level rays of the

sun suffused the sea with a flush of gold and crimson. The wooded

shores, which were two miles distant, were touched with a brighter

green, and the western sky was as bright and varied with gorgeous

colours as if a rainbow had been dissipated over it. The hostile

companies in the two vessels saw none of its beauties and thought only

of the sun that gave glory to the scene, as a light that was to lend its

aid to the approaching conflict. Nearer and nearer they came together,

yet unable, from their direct advance upon each other, to bring their

guns to bear. To fire their bow guns would have checked their speed:

both, therefore, advanced in silence until each could see the features

of his foe. Conspicuous on their decks stood the commanders of each

brig, directing their several courses, and giving commands that were

distinctly heard from one vessel to the other: Kyd, with his light

flowing locks, his fair, noble brow and commanding figure, on the

quarter-deck near the helmsman with a stern and hostile expression in

his eyes and the altitude of one impatient to mingle in the conflict,

which he seemed to anticipate with vengeful triumph: the young captain,

calm, cool, and commanding, his features glowing with the excitement of

the occasion, and animated, as it seemed, with an honest ambition to

punish a lawless bucanier who had so long filled sea and land with the

terror of his name.

"Stand by, hand-grenades!" he shouted, as the vessels were within a few

feet of each other.

"All ready!"

"Cast!" he cried, with a voice of thunder.

Instantly a score of these missiles were flying through the air in the

direction of the crowded decks of the pirate. But, ere they had left the

hand, quicker than thought the pirate's helm had been put hard up, and

every sheet and brace being at the same time let go, she fell off

suddenly from the wind, and presented her broadside to the bows of the

brig; all but one or two of the grenades fell short and plunged into the

water, and those that struck her were thrown overboard ere they could do

injury. At the same instant the bows of the brig struck her starboard

side nearly midships, and such was the tremendous force of the shock

that her slight timbers were stove in, four out of six of the guns that

composed the battery dismounted, while, vibrating with the shock beyond

its tensity, the foremast, with its chain of connected yards, snapped

off even with the deck, and fell with a terrible crash and dire

confusion and ruin into the sea. Loud was the shout of success that rose

from the crew of the brig, and, rushing forward, they prepared to leap

upon the deck of the bucanier.

"Back, men! she is filling!" cried the young captain, who had gained the

bowsprit of his vessel, where he stood sword in hand, and, like his

crew, in the act of springing on board.

"We are going down!" was the universal cry that rose from the pirate's

decks, and the rush of the waters into her hold was distinctly heard

above the noise and confusion of the scene.

"Let her sink!" shouted Kyd, bounding amidships among his men. "Here is

a king's ship worth three of it!"

His appeal was answered by a demoniac yell from his pirate crew; and,

inspired by their imminent peril as well as their natural ferocity, they

sprung, as one man, upon the bows of the brig, and, by mere force of

numbers and desperation, in an instant took possession of the

forecastle, and drove its defenders aft. The last man had scarcely

gained a footing upon it, when, with a plunge like the dying struggle of

a wounded animal, the "Silver Arrow," so long the besom of the ocean,

shot down into its unfathomable depths, finding a grave in the element

upon which it had so long rode in triumph. The brig pitched and rolled

from side to side fearfully as she was received into the vortex the

sinking vessel had left, while she so far sunk down that the waves

rolled a foot deep over her bows, and flowed in an irresistible torrent

aft to the quarter-deck.

For a few seconds after the disappearance of the brigantine there was a

deep hush over the human throng. Every soul was touched with the

sublimity of the spectacle, and an impression, not unlike that with

which a child looks on death, rested for an instant on all. But it was

only for an instant: the situation in which the two parties were so

suddenly and so singularly placed, in such relative positions to each

other, flashed upon their minds, and every eye lighted up with the fire

of conflict.

"Farewell to the brave galley!" said Kyd, as he saw the flag at her

peak trail on the water as she went down. "Now, my boys, we have no

vessel save this! Five minutes will show whether it belongs to his

majesty or 'the Kyd.' Let us sweep yonder honest folk from her, boys,"

he cried, pointing aft, where the brig's crew were resolutely drawn up

before the quarter-deck under their captain, by whose side stood, with a

resolute eye and fearless attitude, his youthful secretary. "But, on

your lives, spare the captain! Also harm not that fair youth beside him.

I like his face for its resemblance to one I once knew. Now at them, and

fight like devils, for either you or they must be driven overboard!"

"Receive them steadily and with firm front, my men," cried the captain

of the brig; "remember, your lives depend on retaining your ship. Do not

forget you are British seamen, fighting for your king and country, your

wives and sweethearts! and that your foes are a set of bloodthirsty

bucaniers, who fight from desperation, and show neither mercy nor

favour. Edwin, my young friend, your station is not here."

"I will not leave your side," he said, firmly.

"Nay, then, here they come like mad devils. God and our country! Meet

them half way! St. George and at them!"

He was the first to set the example, and met the desperate charge

almost single handed. The number of pirates was more than seventy, while

the crew and officers of the brig did not exceed sixty. Nearly the whole

of these were now engaged; those at a distance, who were unable to

mingle in the melee and use their swords, briskly discharging their

firearms, while those of either party on the skirts of the fight cheered

their comrades on with loud cries. For a few moments the brig's crew had

the advantage, and pressed their assailants back on every hand, while

from side to side flowed the heady current of battle, and the human

masses swayed this way and that like an agitated sea; and, with a roar

still more terrible than the ocean in its wildest fury ever sent up,

shouts of onset, cries of rage or pain, yells, and execrations filled

the air, mingled with the reports of pistols, the clash of steel, and

the strange thunder of a hundred feet upon the hollow decks. At length

the seamen gave way before their desperate antagonists, whom the

cheering voice of their leader inspired with tenfold courage and

ferocity.

"At them. Leave not a man alive! One good blow and the brig is ours.

Bear them down! Give no quarter! Ha, Fitzroy! Ha! do we meet again! I

have sought thee to enjoy this moment. Back, hounds," he shouted to his

men; "will ye press me? there is meaner game for you! I alone deal with

him."

"The same moment, then, crowns my wish and thine," said Fitzroy,

crossing his weapon.

They had exchanged a few fierce passes without effect, when they were

separated by the tide of the conflict, and borne to opposite sides of

the deck. At this moment Edwin the secretary, who had been animating the

crew by his cheering cries, said quickly in the ear of Fitzroy,

"Make a sudden charge with all your force, save six men to man the two

after guns; drive them back to the forecastle, if possible, and then

retreat, and I will, at the same moment, turn upon them the pieces which

I have already had loaded with grape." This was spoken with rapidity and

clearness.

"It shall be done," was the stern reply. "Ho, my brave tars! one blow

for merry England! one good blow for the king. Charge them all at once.

Follow me. Hurrah for the king!"

"Hurrah for King Billy, hurrah!" shouted the seamen, with one voice,

catching the spirit of their young captain.

So sudden and well directed was the charge, that the pirates gave back

in a body till they reached the windlass, when, in a voice like a

trumpet, Fitzroy shouted,

"Every Englishman throw himself upon his face! Fire!"

"Down!" re-echoed Kyd, instinctively, at the same moment.

Disciplined to obey the lightest order, every sailor cast himself upon

the deck; but most of the pirates heard too late the warning command of

their chief, and the same instant, from both of the quarter-deck guns, a

shower of grape whistled like a whirlwind over the heads of the crew,

while with the roar of cannon mingled the groans and shrieks of half a

score of bucaniers.

"Vengeance! vengeance! Will ye be slaughtered like dogs! Upon them! Cut

them down! Leave not one alive! Vengeance!"

Loud and terrific was the cry of vengeance, followed by a rush of the

pirates aft that was irresistible. The crew were cut down scarcely ere

they had risen to their feet, and sabred with hellish ferocity wherever

they could be grappled with. In a moment's space two thirds of the

seamen, who had been seized with a sudden panic at the demoniac rush of

the pirates, whom they expected to have seen discomfited by the

wholesale slaughter of their comrades, fell a prey to their savage

ferocity, and the decks were deluged with their blood. Many leaped

overboard, and others sprang into the rigging to fall dead into the sea.

"On, on! the brig is ours!" shouted the pirate chief, waving his reeking

sabre. "Charge the quarter-deck!"

Thither Fitzroy, with Edwin, had retreated with the remnant of his crew,

which were scarcely twenty in number.

"Surrender!" demanded Kyd.

"With our lives only!" was the firm reply.

"Dash at them, ye devils! But see ye touch not the two I have marked as

my own game! Let your blades drink deep; we shall soon be masters here.

Now on!"

They were received by a discharge of pistols, which only increased the

ferocity of those who escaped the fire, and, cutlass in hand, the

quarter-deck was carried after a desperate resistance. Fitzroy was taken

prisoner with much difficulty, and at the cost of several lives of his

assailants, while Kyd himself disarmed the secretary. To a man the brave

crew were slain, either in fair fight while defending their station, or

massacred in cold blood at the termination of the sanguinary conflict.

The pirates were now masters of the brig, though its conquest had cost

them full half of their number.

"Clear the decks of both dead and wounded!" said the victor, leaning on

his bloody sabre and gazing over the decks, which wore the aspect of a

slaughter-house.

"Of our own men?" said he who has before been named as Lawrence.

"Ay! every man that cannot rise on his feet and walk. We want no

hospital of the brig!"

At this order one or two of the wounded pirates attempted to get to

their legs; but finding, after several ineffectual struggles, that it

was out of their power, fell back powerless, with execrations on their

lips, which had hardly ceased before their living bodies parted the

crimson flood alike with the dead. The sun still shone upon the scene of

carnage, and, ere he set, the brig was cleared of the bodies of both

pirate and seaman; the decks were washed; sail was made; the new crew

were posted at their different stations as they had been, though in

fewer numbers, on board their former vessel; and, half an hour after the

conflict, as the disk of the sun sunk behind the Highlands of Monmouth,

scarcely a vestige of the terrific contest was apparent in the orderly

exterior and accurate nautical appointments of the captured vessel.

The moon rose like a shield of pearl, and flung her pale, snowy light

along the dark waves, and silvered the sails of the brig as she went

bowling along over the sparkling surges. On the quarter-deck sat Captain

Fitzroy and his youthful secretary. They were unarmed, and the elder

manacled with heavy irons; but the younger was unbound. Not far from

them, at times stopping to survey them, walked moodily their captor, his

brow knit with thought, and his lips compressed with fierce resolution.

At length he stopped, and said to an inferior officer who stood in the

waste leaning over the bulwarks and watching the swift and steady

progress of the vessel through the water,

"Griffin, prepare the plank!"

"You do not mean--"

"It matters not to you what I mean. Obey me! You are given of late to

question my orders too boldly. Bring the brig to and get out the plank,"

he reiterated, in a firm manner.

"There has been blood enough shed," said the man, with dogged

determination, folding his arms and looking his commander in the face.

"I will do no more of it."

"Ha! by the living spirit! Mutiny?"

"I will be a butcher no longer, be it mutiny or not. I am sick of it."

"Will you to your duty, sir?"

"To work the ship, but not to take more life," said the officer,

steadily.

"You are mad, Griffin! My authority must not be questioned, even by you.

I would not take your life," he added, placing his hand on the butt of a

pistol and half drawing it from his belt. "You cannot be alone in this

mutiny--you wear too bold a front."

"Nor am I. Ho! lads--_a Griffin! a Griffin!_"

The loud cry of the mutineer was responded to by the shout of eight or

ten pirates, who instantly placed themselves, with drawn cutlasses,

around him.

"By the cross! it is well matured!" muttered Kyd, with terrible

calmness. "Back, fellows! To your posts! You, Griffin--for the last

time--to your station, sir, and bring the brig to!"

"Never, sir! Draw and charge. Now is our time!" he cried to his party.

A cry between a yell and the sound made by the gnashing of teeth escaped

the infuriated bucanier chief. Like a tiger, he sprung upon them

single-handed, and struck back half a score of blades with a single

broad sweep of his cutlass, while those who wielded them stood appalled.

"Back, dogs! Do ye fear me singly? Oh, ho, cowards! Stand where ye are!

and you, traitor," he cried, breaking the cutlass of their leader short

to its hilt, "go to your duty! I spare your life!"

"Never!"

"Then go to the devil with my compliments."

With the words he placed a pistol at his breast and fired: the man

leaped high into the air and fell backward dead.

"Now, fellows, return to your stations," he said, returning his smoking

pistol to his belt. "The first who hesitates or falters lies beside this

carcass," he added, touching, with a contemptuous gesture, the body with

his foot.

The mutineers dropped their weapons and returned to their posts without

hesitation or a murmur. "Lawrence, you are no longer coxswain," said

Kyd. "Take this mutineer's rank. See that my orders are obeyed! Lay the

main topsail to the mast!"

"Ay, ay, sir!" replied the new lieutenant, with alacrity.

The helm was put hard down, the vessel came up into the wind, the heavy

sail was reversed against the topmast, and the vessel became stationary.

A plank was then run out over the gangway bulwarks with the largest end

inboard.

"Now, Rupert Fitzroy, prepare to die!" said the bucanier, approaching

his prisoner, who stood with folded arms and calm brow gazing upon the

moon walking in her brightness, and looking as if he anticipated the

speedy flight of his spirit through the starry world. He evidently

expected death, and was prepared to meet it. His companion stood by him

leaning upon his shoulder; his hands were clasped together, and he was

pale and deadly in aspect, but not less resigned: nevertheless, he

involuntarily shuddered as the footsteps of the pirate approached them,

and addresed the former.

"I will give you a free leap into the other world, as your blood is

gentle, sir, and will set aside the cravat of hemp; though in a swing at

the yard-arm many a better man has gone to his account than Mark

Meredith."

"Ha! do you know me?" demanded the other, starting from his revery, and

fixing his gaze upon him with surprise and curiosity.

"Thou hast heard whether I do or not, and what was but suspicion is now

proved by thy manner."

"Who, then, art thou?"

"It matters not. You must die. The last link that binds you to life is

broken. You will soon learn if the proverb be true that saith there is

but a step between this world and the next, for you will speedily

measure it. The step is rather a wet one, but there is a fire priests

prate about that will soon dry you." This irony and sarcasm was spoken

with the most unfeeling manner, while hatred and malice seemed to

dictate each word.

"Surely you cannot, you will not be so inhuman as to do such foul

murder!" cried the youthful secretary, placing himself between Kyd and

Fitzroy, and stretching forth his hands deprecatingly.

"Who is the blacker murderer, sir--this man who robs of me my good name,

or I, who merely take his life?" inquired Kyd, haughtily.

"I robbed you not of it," said Fitzroy. "'Tis true, I have talked to

many of thy deeds. But your good name! 'twas already gone--thrown away

by your lawless acts of piracy."

"'Tis false! I had never pirated when I took thee prisoner. Smuggling a

few silks and laces, or costly wines; defending my ship against

officious gentlemen under king's colours, who fain would board me,

seeking contraband wares--this have I done, and will do again on like

occasion; but pirated I had not then."

"A distinction without a difference; a mere quibble upon words, to cheat

thy rankling conscience into security."

"Have it thy own way," said the pirate, with haughty carelessness. "I

will not quarrel with a man who has but five brief minutes to use his

tongue in. Is all ready there at the gangway? We're losing time here

idly. Ho! lead him to his death!"

"Impossible," exclaimed Fitzroy, indignantly; "you will not carry out a

suggestion so infernal."

"Nay, sir, you will not do such cold-blooded murder," cried the

secretary, catching the hand of Kyd, and kneeling at his feet. "Spare!

oh, spare his life, and I will be thy slave!"

"Silence, boy! and you, sir, if you would use your speech, husband it

in words of prayer. Thy time has come as surely as the moon now shines

in the east."

"All ready, sir!" said Lawrence, coming aft a step or two and addressing

his captain.

"Will you walk to the gangway, sir, or shall my men conduct you?"

"Farewell, my faithful Edwin," he said, with manly dignity, tenderly

embracing the youth. "We shall in a few minutes meet beyond the skies!"

The youth cast himself into his arms, and the next moment Fitzroy

unclasped his hold and laid him upon the deck insensible.

"I am ready!" he said, calmly.

"Perhaps you have a last request to make," said the pirate chief,

sarcastically; "doubtless some wish is lurking in your breast, which,

unexpressed, will add bitterness to death! If so, intrust it to me. I'll

be its executor. Perhaps," he continued, in the same tone, "you have a

ring, a lock of hair, some tender love-token to be returned to the

giver. Perchance some maiden will ask how Fitzroy died. I'll bear to her

a message! Ere to-morrow night I shall see the peerless Kate of

Bellamont; she'll love me for bringing it, and perhaps yield the

pressure of her haughty lips. I've had love favours on my own account of

the willing maid ere now."

"Villain! thou liest!" cried the young man, goaded to phrensy by his

words, and only restrained from springing upon him by the weight of the

irons which shackled him.

"Ask her when you meet hereafter in the other world, for you meet no