"He then would make the nearest isle,
And go at night by stealth,
To hide within the earth a while
His last ill-gotten wealth."
H. F. GOULD.
Towards the approach of evening on the day following the events related
in the last chapter, Kate Bellamont was walking beneath the noble oaks
that shaded the lawn lying between the front of White Hall and the
water. She had been for some time watching the slow progress of a brig
into the harbour, which, on first discerning it from the balcony, her
spyglass told her was the "Ger-Falcon." Her impatience had drawn her to
the water side, where the thin waves uncurled upon a silvery beach at
her feet.
Slowly it advanced up towards the town, and the shouts of the citizens,
and gun after gun from the Rondeel, welcomed her return. It was nearly
night when, coming between Governor's Island and the city, she fired a
gun without coming to; the British ensign was lowered at the same
instant, and up in its place went the black flag of the bucanier. A loud
wail seemed to fill the town.
"The Kyd! the Kyd!" rung through the streets and everywhere spread
consternation. The battery on the Rondeel opened a heavy fire, which was
returned by two broadsides from the brig, which then stood across
towards Brooklyn, and anchored east of the town out of the range of the
guns of the fort.
Kate had witnessed all this, at first, with surprise, which grew to
terrible anxiety and alarm; and when the return of the fire confirmed
the hostile character of the vessel, now too plainly captured by the
corsair, a faintness came over her and she leaned against an oak for
support. "Where was Fitzroy? A prisoner or slain!" were questions that
she dared not ask herself. Overcome by her feelings, she was ready to
sink at the foot of the tree in almost a state of insensibility, when
she saw a skiff containing two men, which had been making its way from
the direction of "The Kills," land not far from the "Rondeel." The
twilight was sufficiently strong to enable her to see a fisherman step
from it and approach her by the winding of the shore. She struggled
against her feelings, for his manner seemed to betoken news; and with a
quick step she advanced several paces to meet him.
"Do you bring news of Captain Fitzroy, or come you to confirm my
suspicions?" she cried, as he came near her.
"Sweet lady," he said, wrapping his ample jacket closer about his
person, "I am but a poor shipwrecked mariner. Yet I do bear sad news for
thee."
"Of whom?" she asked, quickly, vainly endeavouring, in the dusk of
evening, to read in his shaded features all he had not revealed.
"Captain Fitzroy!"
"Ha! speak! Words! words! why are you silent? I will hear thee."
"He has been captured by a pirate."
"I knew it."
"And is now prisoner to his captor in yonder brig."
"His own courage should have kept it."
"Nay, lady, he did all he could to save his vessel."
"What fate met he? What became of him, seaman? There is life and death
in your answer! Lives he?"
"We were captured by Kyd, who now holds our vessel, and all were
condemned to walk the plank."
"Ha! and he?"
"Nay, lady, he lives! He, besides myself, alone escaped the death
designed for us."
"Lives, lives! 'Tis happiness to know it! How escaped you?"
"I took the leap into the sea. By floating and swimming I was half an
hour afterward picked up by a fisherman, who brought me hither."
"And Edwin, his secretary?"
"Alas, I know not."
"Direful, dreadful news! Fitzroy, Fitzroy! oh that I had died ere this
sad news of thy dishonour, perhaps thy death, had reached me! Merciful
God! sustain me in this hour!"
She buried her face in her hands, and seemed overcome by grief.
"Nay, Kate, dearest Kate, I am here! Fitzroy is before you; it is your
Rupert who clasps you to his heart. Speak! I am by you, and fold you in
my arms!"
He cast off his fisherman's coat and bonnet as he spoke, and she looked
up revived at his voice, and beheld, indeed, the face of him whom she
had mourned as dead or lost to her for ever.
"Fitzroy!"
"Fitzroy, and none else, dearest Kate!"
"How could you put me to such a trial?" she cried, almost weeping on his
shoulder.
"Nay, forgive me! I planned it not beforehand; but seeing, as I
approached you, that you knew me not, the fisher's coat and cap I
borrowed of him who fished me from the water having disguised me even to
your keen-eyed love, I was tempted to try your affections."
"Nay, Rupert, did you doubt it?"
"I have no cause," he said, embracing her.
"And did you escape as you just now said?"
"Yes. My brig was taken by a strange fatality after I had sunk the
pirate vessel. All my men were slain--none, save Edwin and myself, left
alive. I, from some strange thirst for blood that possesses Kyd--for I
can divine no other motive--was condemned by him to walk the plank. I
succeeded in snatching a cutlass, for the purpose of selling my life
dearly as might be, but at length was driven overboard. I had, before
sunset, seen a fisher's skiff a mile off at anchor; and, rising far from
the vessel towards her bows, struck out, when she had passed me, towards
it. It so chanced that he had seen the brig lying to, and pulled towards
her to find a market for his fish, when I hailed him and was taken on
board. Knowing that the pirate would steer directly to this port, I
bribed the man to bring me hither through the Staten Island Sound: and
here I am once more in your loved presence."
She mused while he spoke, and then, as if unconscious of his presence,
said,
"Robert, poor Robert, to what height of crime has passion led thee--to
what abyss will it plunge thee! Thou wert my first, my only love! As
some wild vine clings around a stately trunk, curling its tendrils about
its topmost limbs, as if in one embrace 'twould clasp it all, so did I
entwine my heart around thee, taking thy shape! But, at last, the
tempest came and swept my stately oak away. Lonely and lost, I stretched
my wounded tendrils on every side, seeking some branch to cling to; then
fell down, and lay in ruins along the ground.--Ha, Fitzroy! Why is thy
eye with such fierce scrutiny fixed upon me?"
The lover started, and then a moment or two hurriedly paced the sward
ere, with hesitation and embarrassment, he said,
"It has reached my ears--how, it matters not--that, since my departure,
you and this freebooter Kyd have met in private. From his own lips there
fell dark words of favours given or received! The thoughts (forgetful of
my presence) you now gave tongue to put to this, together, the one
strenghtened by the other, give--"
"Fitzroy, cease! why will you seek to cast a cloud over the heaven your
presence makes so bright?"
"Forgive me, but some demon tortures me with suspicion, spite of my
confidence in thy love!"
"Ha, dost thou know this Kyd?"
"Only as a pirate! There is meaning in your question," he said,
earnestly. "Who is he other than he seems?"
"To keep the secret from thee would be doing injustice to my pride of
spirit. I have pledged my father to marry thee; I look upon thee as my
husband; I will keep nothing from thee."
"Do you not love me, Kate?"
"If I had never loved till now, I should love thee, Rupert, next to my
life. I have told thee the secret of my former love, and thou didst say
thou wouldst take the half of my heart if thou couldst get no more!"
"I did, dearest Kate! The intensity of my love is alone my apology for
intruding upon the sacredness of an earlier passion! Yet I thought thou
hadst forgotten this--"
"I had--I but speak of it now. It is forgotten."
She now seemed to struggle with some powerful emotion, and then said
quickly,
"The Kyd--is--is Lester!"
"By Heaven! your words have solved a strange feeling that governed me
when I was in his presence to call him by a familiar name! But--"
"He is Lester--and Lester is 'the Kyd.'"
"He fled to sea I have learned, strangely leaving his title, wealth, and
home. A pirate?"
"A pirate."
"How learned you this?"
"Through the sorceress Elpsy, and, more recently, through himself."
"You have met him, then?"
"I have, Rupert."
"He pressed upon thee his former passion?"
"He did."
"And you--"
"Fitzroy, enough; I will not be interrogated. If you doubt me, I am
unworthy your love; you to suspect my truth, unworthy mine."
"Forgive me, Lady Catharine! Yet you met?"
"For a moment. I told him I was betrothed to thee, and he left me, as I
believe, to pursue thee."
"This accounts for his vindictiveness. Pardon me if I have wronged thee.
You do not hear."
"I was thinking of Lester," she said, with unsuspecting frankness.
He gazed upon her absent countenance a few seconds, struck his temples
with vehemence, and groaned with anguish. Suddenly he turned towards her
and said, with the sternness of grief mingled with reluctant jealousy,
"Lady Catharine of Bellamont, answer me in pity, by the love I bear you,
by the troth you have plighted me! With all his insatiate avarice and
thirst for blood, his moral baseness and his numerous crimes, does there
not linger in the embers of your earlier passion one single spark a
proper wind may kindle into flame?"
"There is deeper meaning beneath your words than floats upon the
surface," she replied, with dignity; "my woman's pride should rise in my
defence, and meet with scorn the foul suspicion that lurks beneath them!
But I will excuse you. I will think you soured by the recent loss of
your brig, and so forgive you."
"This is no answer, lady! This Lester or Kyd, I well know, loves you!
Thinking me dead, he soon will press his suit. By soft words, vows, and
deep protestations of innocence and promises of reform, will he seek to
reinstate himself in your affections--if perchance they are forfeited!
He is rich, noble, and smooth-tongued. I am, as now you see me, a
shipwrecked mariner, with only my commission and my sword! Nay, you have
even cast the loss of my vessel in my teeth!"
The handsome young man, with clouded brow, grieved and goaded spirit,
turned away as he spoke, and, folding his arms, gazed moodily on the
waves as they unrolled at his feet, tossing liquid diamonds upon the
sand. Each word he uttered only served as weapons against him. Suspicion
and jealousy will never turn back the current of woman's love if it has
once flowed a contrary way. Gentleness will govern it and guide it; but
violence opposed to it will, like a dam, convert it into an ungovernable
cataract. The attachment between Kate Bellamont and Fitzroy was
properly, so far as impassioned love was concerned, only on one side.
Fitzroy, or Mark Meredith, had held her from youth in his eye as the
star both of his ambition and his love; and when, by a fortuitous
circumstance, five years after his departure as an humble lad from the
fisherman's hut at Castle Cor, he found himself commander of the vessel
destined to convey her to the New World, he, unrecognised by her, and
under the name he had assumed, wooed her with diffidence, yet with the
perseverance of a love that had strengthened with his strength and grown
with his growth. She, in the mean while, was pleased by his attentions,
flattered by his devotion, and not insensible to his love. She knew him
only as Captain Fitzroy, who had been knighted for his gallantry on the
sea, and whose youth only prevented him from attaining the highest rank
in the navy. The earl (for the lovely Countess of Bellamont had deceased
the year before) seconded the young hero's addresses, anticipating for
the youthful knight the highest name and rank.
At length, on the day they arrived in New-York Bay she gave him the
promise of her hand, though her heart went not with it. It was her
father's wish that she should marry, and she herself believed Lester no
longer lived. Fitzroy was therefore accepted; and though she did not
regard him with the devotion of love, she esteemed him as a friend;
while the gratitude she felt for his attachment he mistook for love.
Although such second attachments are not altogether consistent with the
character of a true heroine, yet they are not inconsistent with the
character of a true woman!
The betrothed lady looked upon her lover with surprise as he concluded,
and said mildly,
"This is strange! You are not wont to yield to moods of jealousy,
Fitzroy!"
"Jaundiced and jealous I confess I am, until you answer me!" he said,
with nervous impatience.
"Thou art ill, I fear," she said, laying her hand upon his shoulder
tenderly; "and what at other times I might take deep offence at, having
given no cause, I'll now regard as the workings of disease tinging your
speech, which else were fair and worthy of you."
"I am not sick unless at heart," he said, burying his face in his
hands. "She loves me not," he uttered to himself; "she loves me not! I
have been blinded by my own deep passion! She loves me not! The hopes,
the dreams of years are dissipated! She loves me not!"
All at once he turned to her and said,
"Once more forgive me, dearest lady! I was not myself just now; I knew
not--I knew not what I said! 'Tis over now; forget it!"
"I knew thou wert not thyself, and felt not thy words," she said, with
sweet dignity. "Nay, shrink not from my embrace, Rupert."
"I am unworthy!"
"Nay, Rupert, I know your thoughts! You do yourself injustice. So far as
my love can be bestowed on any one, it is bestowed on thee. That I think
of Lester as he once was with tenderness, I do not deny; that I now pity
and fear him, you need not be told. Still I do confess to you, that,
were he Lester now, and worthy of his name, my love would be his did he
claim it. But we can never be aught to each other more. Be jealous no
longer! 'Tis unworthy thee; and I will henceforth give thee no cause."
"Nay, lady," he said, with seriousness, kneeling and taking her hand,
"though I love thee truly and tenderly; though I have loved thee since
my heart was first awakened to passion; and although this hand has been
the goal of my ambition, and is at length surrendered to me, and is thus
clasped in mine, yet I resign it, and here tender back to thee thy
reluctantly given troth, and leave thee free!"
"Thou wilt not, then," she said, playfully, after hesitating in what
vein to reply, "deign to accept my heart, while one little corner is
reserved for the memory of a youthful passion?"
"Nay, if that little corner alone were wholly mine, and the rest were
sacred to that youthful love, I should feel myself most happy--most
blessed. But not that I may be free, but that thou mayest be, do I make
this sacrifice."
"Then it need not be made, Rupert. For it would be also a sacrifice to
me."
"Do you say that truly?" he asked, with warmth.
"Truly."
"I am then happy."
"You will not be jealous again?"
"No. But it was my love."
"I confess you had cause. But it exists no longer. Let us return to the
Hall."
"I will escort thee there, and then, as I should have done ere this, aid
the earl in preparing to defend the town, for it doubtless will be
attacked ere morning by Kyd. Lester--Lester, said you? How strange, how
very strange! An earldom thrown away; the haughty, highborn noble! Nay,
I can scarce believe it. Yet, now I call him to mind, I do recognise the
noble in 'the Kyd.' At another time, fair Catharine, you must explain
this mystery to me!"
They advanced towards the Hall as he was speaking, and were soon lost in
the shadows that were cast by the trees, that stretched their gnarled
limbs on every side, covering the lofty roof of the White Hall with a
canopy of the densest foliage.
They found in the library the Earl of Bellamont, attended by the captain
of the Rondeel and two or three of his council, who were also the
principal citizens of the town, in some excitement on account of the
reappearance of the Ger-Falcon under the pirate flag. In a few words
Fitzroy informed them of the particulars of his meeting with the pirate,
the loss of his vessel, and his own escape.
"To the Rondeel, Captain Van Hooven!" said the earl to the commander of
the fort, with animation, as he ended. "We shall doubtless be attacked.
Let nothing be wanting to defend your position and protect the town.
Attended by these gentlemen and Captain Fitzroy, I will visit the other
forts and stir the citizens to arms. Watch any movement from the brig,
and fire at whatever moves on the water."
They instantly separated: the captain hastening to his fort, the
governor and his party to visit the town and the two other forts,
situated the one at the Countess's slip, and the other at the foot of
the Wall-street, and Kate was left alone. When their departing footsteps
had died away, she felt an undefinable curiosity to watch the motions of
the vessel, the appearance of which created such a sensation in town and
hall. She therefore hastened to her boudoir and took her station upon
the balcony. The night had already set in, and the brig lay dark, still,
and indistinct where she had at first anchored. All was silent in that
direction, and her nicest sense of hearing could not detect a ripple on
the water. Did she listen for one? Did she expect one? Did she hope, yet
fear; doubt, yet believe, that the outcast Lester would seek her
presence once more? There is a difficulty in saying what emotions passed
through the maiden's mind. It is puzzling to tell which way the beam of
a lady's thoughts will turn when a lover is in each scale! Yet it by no
means requires a skilful analyzer of the female heart to tell which of
two lovers--a first one unforgotten, though discarded; a second unloved,
though endured--will be most in her thoughts. It has ever been a noble,
yet weak trait in woman, to love unworthiness, and rarely has there been
found a man, however black with crime, however despised by his
fellow-men, who has not been, in his lowest estate of guilt and
degradation, the object of some woman's devoted and undying love. Such
love for such beings seems to be allied to the tender pity with which
angels regard the whole erring race of mortals! It is not intended by
these reflections to say anything of Kate's feelings that can be
construed into disloyalty towards Fitzroy: they are only intended to
show that women are good, kind, forgiving, charitable, and somewhat
capricious creatures, and that, in loving, they obey the heart rather
than the head.
Kate, after watching the still waters of the bay for some time, and
catching no sign of movement, hostile or otherwise, on board the vessel,
descended the steps of the balcony to the lawn, and, advancing across
it, approached the gate that led towards the inn of Jost Stoll, in the
direction of which she heard the voices of many citizens congregated
there and discussing the crisis of affairs. As she came near it it was
opened, and a person hastily entered and closed it after him. She
started at the intrusion, and was about to turn towards the Hall, when
the stranger called her by name in a low tone.
She stopped and surveyed him an instant as he slowly approached.
"Edwin Gerald, is it you? You are then safe! I congratulate you with all
my heart!"
"I am, lady," said the youth, sadly. "But--" and he hesitated.
"You bring me news of Fitzroy's death."
"You speak full lightly of it," he said, with surprise, "did you believe
such my message. I know not whether he lives or not. Our vessel was
taken by Kyd, who now holds it. Captain Fitzroy and myself alone were
spared. He for a dreadful death, I for the more dreadful fate of
surviving him."
"You were attached to him?"
"I was. Now that he is no more, I have no longer reason for this
disguise, and here--"
"Nay; do nothing rashly, fair sir; if you were about to tell me he loved
me, I can tell you he has told me so himself within the half hour."
"How? Explain!"
"He is alive and well."
"Alive. Heaven, thou art kind! most kind! How was it?"
"He was driven overboard, as you believe, but was saved in a fisherman's
boat. He will be rejoiced to learn of your escape. How was it, fair
sir?"
"Kyd retained me prisoner to bear a courteous message to his lady love.
I swore, to purchase my life, to be its bearer when he came to port. For
this purpose I was landed above the town on the western side, and guided
by him to this gate. He now awaits an answer to this billet. This done,
I am released from my solemn oath to him. Fitzroy lives, said you,
lady?"
She heeded not his words, but snatching the note from his hands, said
hurriedly,
"Wait my return."
She flew to the balcony and shut herself in her boudoir, and, drawing
the curtains close, half opened the letter, when she hesitated.
"Nay, it must not be! 'Tis wrong. I will return it.--But perhaps it
contains something I should know! I should like to hear what the lost
Lester can say. He comes, too, in such gentle guise! I will read it!"
The next moment it was open in her hand, and she read with a fluttering
pulse,
"DEAREST KATE,
"Let me see you for a brief moment just as the moon rises, by the
linden that grows at the foot of the Rondeel. My temporal, nay,
spiritual welfare hangs upon your answer. I am penitent. I appeal
to you as to a heavenly intercessor! Refuse not this request, lest
the guilt of my suicidal blood fall on your soul.
LESTER."
She looked at the lines till they seemed composed of words of fire. Her
brain reeled, her heart swelled, and she seemed torn by emotions of
terrible power.
"Heaven guide me in this strait!" she cried, falling impulsively on her
knees and clasping the letter in her folded hands. "Sudden and strange
events crowd thick upon me, with tales of murder foul, and this newborn
jealousy of Rupert--whom I know not if I love or no, yet whom I should
love had _he_ not risen from the grave, as 'twere, to step between me
and my newly-plighted troth! My brain is crazed!"
She rose to her feet and walked the room thoughtfully, with the letter
in her hand, now looking at it with tenderness, now crumpling it with
disdain. Suddenly she stopped and said with energy,
"The struggle is over! I will meet him."
She stepped to the balcony, beneath which the young secretary stood, and
said calmly,
"Return, and say I'll come."
She withdrew herself hastily into the boudoir as she spoke, and the
youth left her to bear the message back to the bucanier, and thereby
redeem his oath and regain his liberty.
The moon was just rising above the Heights of Brooklyn, when, wrapped in
a mantle, her face concealed by its folds, thrown over her head in the
shape of a hood, Kate Bellamont left her boudoir by the door that
communicated with the main body of the house. With light and hasty
footsteps she traversed a long passage that led to the library. She
cautiously opened the door, and, evidently to her surprise and pleasure,
found no one within. She crossed it to an opposite door, which she
opened with the same caution, and found herself in the family chapel,
dimly lighted by two wax tapers placed upon a small stand before a
crucifix. She gathered the folds of her mantle closer about her form,
and, looking round the obscure apartment to see if she was observed,
kneeled a moment in silent prayer before the altar, looking heavenward
as she prayed, as if she sought guidance and protection. She then rose
to her feet, and hastily walked towards a door partly concealed by
tapestry, and passed through it into a conservatory verdant and fragrant
with rare plants. A little wicket inserted in the Venetian blinds which
surrounded this floral gallery she pushed open, and issued into the open
air and upon a lawn that extended close up to the foot of the glacis
that environed the Rondeel. She paused an instant ere she crossed the
green, as if hesitating. The delay was but for an instant; for she
directly afterward moved forward with a rapid pace towards a lofty tree,
the topmost branches of which towered above the walls of the fort. Its
foot was buried in deep shadow, the rising moon having only touched, as
yet, the upper wall. Beneath it walked a man with a hasty and impatient
tread, who at every third step stopped and looked towards the Hall with
anxious scrutiny.
"'Tis past the hour; the moon is mounting high in the heavens, and yet
she comes not!" he said, as he paused and surveyed the darkly-shaded
lawn that stretched between him and the mansion. "Cursed oversight in
making this boy my messenger! He has doubtless told the tale of
Fitzroy's fate, and she'll not meet his murderer. Ha! a form! Hers in a
thousand! She comes! Now aid me, all good angels!"
He advanced to meet her as she came near the tree, and said in a low
tone, lest he should be overheard by the sentry on the parapet above,
"Most kind, dear Kate! Forgive the rude and angry haste with which I
last left you! You are indeed kind! My strong love told me my appeal
would not be made in vain."
He kneeled at her feet as he spoke and attempted to take her hand. She
drew back with dignity, and said with firmness,
"Let this distance be between us. You have desired to see me!"
"I have. Is there no hope for me, Kate?"
"How mean you?"
"Do you believe me so far steeped in guilt that heartfelt penitence for
what is past will not replace me in the seal of your affections, which I
do confess most justly I have forfeited? Is there no hope of pardon for
the penitent?"
"The thief found mercy on the cross. Heaven still forgives the
penitent."
"And will you be less indulgent? I speak not now of heaven. The seat I
have lost is in your heart! It is there, sweet Kate, I would be
replaced!"
"Cease, sir. I came not hither, Robert, to hold converse on this theme.
Your epistle, which brought me here against my will and better judgment,
discoursed other language; atonement to Heaven, not to me. If other than
your soul's weal be your aim, then is our conference ended."
She turned to leave him as she spoke, but he caught her hand.
"Stay! be not so hasty! I do confess there is some ground for Rumour's
widespread tales, but I am not so guilty as she'd make me. Is there no
pathway to your forgiveness?"
"Yes, when you have atoned to Heaven!"
"None to your love?"
"None!"
"Nothing's proved!" he cried, with animation; "I bear the king's
commission against piracy."
"The more guilty then, that, under cover of it, you commit piracies.
This king's commission! Do not all men know 'twas given thee because you
knew the haunts of a dangerous horde of pirates in the Indian seas,
having been one of them, though now their foe and rival; and, by giving
thee employment, to keep thee out of mischief?"
"'Tis false!"
"I've heard enough. More I could tell thee of recent occurrence."
"Ha, dost thou know--has the boy told--"
"Nothing. I know enough. Your guilt is written out upon the sky! He that
runs may read it! Go on; slay and pillage. You have a love of human
blood, and, like the wolf, who, once tasting it, will touch no other,
glut thyself till satiate."
"Kate!"
"Away, sir! Speak not, come not near me! Thy touch, thy very glance is
pollution."
She turned to fly towards the Hall as she spoke, but, darting forward,
he caught her by the arm.
"By the cross! if you will act the queen, then will I play the king. I
have been an angler, and have learned from it a lesson in love. My
letter to thee was but a hook cunningly baited with a gilded fly I knew
you would snap at! I have given thee line enough, and now will draw thee
in captive!"
He threw his arm about her as he spoke, and was bearing her around the
bastion of the fort towards his boat, which, by making a circuit from
his vessel round the bay and approaching the town on the North River
side, he had succeeded in running into a little cove west of the Rondeel
unperceived. The surprise of the maiden was at first so great as to
deprive her of the power of speech. But, as she was borne round the fort
by his strong arm, she said, in a tone of perfect self-command,
"Unhand me, Lester! Release me. I forgive you."
"You are _mine_, proud beauty!" he replied, through his clinched teeth.
"I have been the plaything of thy pride full long."
"Unhand me, sir."
"Pardon me if I am somewhat rough," he said, ironically; "on shipboard I
will atone for it."
"Heaven, then, has given me this in my hour of need," she cried,
snatching a pistol from his belt, and by a sudden effort disengaging
herself and springing away from him several feet. As she spoke she
levelled it against his person.
"Ha, ha! my pretty one, you do the heroine excellently. Give me that
pretty toy, sweet Kate," he said, advancing towards her; "it becomes not
a lady's fingers."
"Back, sir," she replied with resolution, presenting it full at his
breast.
"Nay, nay, then."
He sprung upon her at the same instant to secure the weapon, when she
cried,
"God forgive me, then!" and fired.
Instantly he released her wrist, which he had seized, with a cry of pain
mingled with an exclamation of rage and disappointment.
The report of the pistol was answered by the roll of a drum on the
Rondeel, and was followed by the noise of alarm and confusion in the
town. Kate fled like a deer towards the Hall, while Kyd, wrapping his
cloak about his left arm, which was bleeding freely, glided beneath the
locust-trees that surrounded the Bowling Green, and gained his boat.
"Shall we pull back by the way we came?" asked the coxswain.
"No. Give me the helm."
The man obeyed his stern voice, and, after the boat had cleared the
rocks, he steered her directly across the line of fire from the Rondeel
towards his vessel.
Without hesitating, the men pulled steadily and in silence in the face
of the fort, and, as the moon was now up, they could not remain long
undiscovered. In a few seconds they were challenged from the battery.
There was no reply. A second time they were hailed, but still the boat
kept on her course straight for the brig.
"Fire!" cried a voice. "'Tis 'the Kyd.'"
Instantly, one after another, the heavy guns opened upon them from the
parapet, but the balls went roaring through the air high above their
heads. Still steadily and silently the boat kept on her course. A
discharge of firearms followed with more effect. Three of the eight
oarsmen were shot dead as they sat, and scarcely one escaped unhurt. The
desperate helmsman sat stern and silent, and only with an impatient wave
of his hand bid them row on. A second volley reached them, and but three
oarsmen remained seated and labouring faintly at their oars. Kyd left
the helm and caught the fourth oar as the dead man dropped it, and,
cheering them on, soon reached his brig, amid a third volley that
rattled around him like hail.
"Ship your oars," he cried, as they came alongside, rising to his feet.
Not a man moved.
"Spring to the bows and fend off!" he shouted.
There was no reply; the men sat upright, and swayed their bodies to and
fro, and still pulled at their sweeps!
The boat, at the same instant, came against the brig's counter with a
shock, and the three men were thrown from their seats backward to the
bottom of the boat. They were dead! He had been pulling an oar the last
few seconds with corpses. He shuddered and sprung up the side.
Instantly the brig got under weigh, and, sailing up East River to Hell
Gate, passed through the dangerous pass, and came to, not far from the
Witch's Isle. A boat was lowered, and Kyd descended into it and landed
there. As he entered the hut the witch was seated on the ground over a
fire, rocking her body to and fro, and chanting a wild song.
"Welcome, Robert Kyd," she said, without turning round. "Umph! I smell
blood!" she cried the instant after. "Thou hast been at thy old trade.
Hast thou had revenge?"
"I have. His vessel is mine. Him I have slain."
"Did I not promise thee this?" she said, rising and speaking with
triumph. "Now thou art come to do my will and to fulfil thy oath."
"I have seen her within the hour," he said, with settled hate.
"And she has scorned thee?"
"Yes. I tried love at first, but it would not do, and--"
"You then tried force?"
"I did," he said, ferociously.
"And she is now in thy state-cabin?"
"No. I bore her part way to my boat, when she drew a pistol from my belt
and shot me here."
"And she--"
"The garrison was instantly in arms; the town rose clamorous; she fled
like a deer, and mocked pursuit. I barely escaped to my boat, and
reached my brig with the loss of every man. By Heaven! I believe a score
of balls struck my person, yet they seemed to fall from my cloak
harmlessly like hailstones."
"It was the amulet!"
"True, woman! Yet I was wounded by a pistol in this girl's hand. Your
charm here failed."
"No. Did I not tell thee--if not, be it known to thee, Robert Kyd--that
ne'er devil wrought a charm a woman may not undo. Ball from men can harm
thee not, but if a woman use the weapon the charm is naught. What wilt
thou now do?"
"Return to Ireland and lay claim to the earldom. Perhaps, when I leave
my present course of life, she will listen to me. By the cross! I am
ashamed to woo a noble maiden whom I have loved, and still love, so
roughly."
"I will woo her for thee."
"Nay."
"I will not heed thy nay! She must be thine. Yet I like this
determination to assume your earldom. Go bury your treasures that are
here, in some safe place, and sail for Ireland. After thou art become
Lord of Lester, they can then be removed, and enable thee to support thy
rank with princely state."
"I will take them with me, Elpsy."
"Thou wilt lose them, then, if pursued by a cruiser and forced to desert
your vessel. Bury them here, and, when thou art an earl, thou canst come
for them thyself, and bear them home without suspicion."
"Perhaps you are right; none will see in the Earl of Lester the outlaw
Kyd. Save thyself and Kate of Bellamont, the secret is locked from all
human knowledge."
"Her pride will keep her from revealing it, and my projects for thy
aggrandizement seal my own lips," said the sorceress. "Here are the
treasures which for three years thou hast accumulated," she added,
removing a stone from a crevice in the rock against which her hut was
built, and exposing, by a torchlight, a cavity therein filled with vast
piles of gold and silver coins, countless rings for the ears and
fingers, cups of chased gold set with precious stones, bracelets, ducal
coronets sparkling with diamonds, and innumerable jewels of every
description. He surveyed the valuable deposite, and then, shaking his
head, slowly said,
"They have cost much blood, Elpsy."
"Therefore should they be well kept. Take them with thee, and hide them
in some secret place, easy of access from the sea, till thou hast need
of them."
"I know a spot where three tides meet, which will be a safe repository
for them."
"Call thy men and bear them to thy vessel."
"Wilt thou go with me to perform the rites?"
"I have other things to do in town. I have made a discovery there that
has filled my soul with joy! Ho, I will tell it you when you return, for
it concerns you, boy. Cusha shall go with thee. Slave, appear!"
From an obscure corner of the hut the hideous African made his
appearance, his malicious and cunning features glowing with the hateful
look they habitually wore.
"Slave, take with thee thy charms and follow thy master here! See that
the gold is buried with all the rites of our mystic art."
He prostrated himself to the floor, and left her to obey her commands.
In a short time the pirate's crew had conveyed the treasure from the hut
to their boat, and thence on board the brig, and before daybreak the
vessel was many leagues up the Sound, steering an easterly course. The
succeeding morning she doubled the easternmost cape of Long Island, and,
altering her course to the southwest, stood towards Sandy Hook under a
stiff breeze from the southeast. By night she entered the Sound between
Sandy Hook and the south side of Staten Island, and, steering directly
across the mouth of the Raritan, anchored close to an elevated peninsula
that formed the northern shore of the river.
The report of the pistol fired by Kate Bellamont not only alarmed the
garrison and the town, but brought out the earl from the library,
whither he had just retired with his friends, after having taken the
rounds of the threatened town.
"What means this, dearest Kate?" he cried, meeting her flying across the
lawn.
"Nothing, nothing, father!" she gasped, flinging herself into his arms.
"My child is not injured? What is this firing and sudden alarm? Why are
you here, and flying as if for life?" he asked, with anxious solicitude.
"The Kyd--the pirate!" she exclaimed, with indignation.
"Ha!" he cried, bounding forward towards the Rondeel, and thence
instinctively to the nearest shore where he anticipated he should meet
him. A boat was just putting off. Without delay he hastened back to the
Rondeel, and, taking the commander by the arm, led him to the rampart,
and said,
"There is the pirate's cutter. Bring your guns to bear upon her."
The result of the fire is already known. When he saw that the boat
reached the brig, and that she immediately got under weigh, he left the
fort and returned to the Hall to seek his daughter. On his way he met
Fitzroy, who had just arrived at the Hall, after having, through the
governor, chartered a Bristol ship that was lying in the East Dock ready
for sea, with the intention of putting on board of her the guns of the
Rondeel, and attacking Kyd as he was at anchor in the harbour.
"She can be got ready for sea in twenty-four hours, my lord," he said
with animation, as he met the earl. "But what is this confusion and
heavy firing?"
"You are well met, Fitzroy! Go to my daughter, while I return to the
fort! The bucanier has landed, so far as I can learn, and like to have
carried Kate off, I believe. But I have had no time to inquire."
"I will see her at once," said Fitzroy, leaving him hastily.
"You will find her in her boudoir. I will remain and see that our
defences are kept up! Ha! the pirate is under sail, and is moving up the
Sound."
"He is going to sea again, doubtless; but, as our guns command both the
channels out, he has taken the way by Long Island Sound."
"Heaven grant it be so!" said the earl, as he entered the Rondeel.
Kate Bellamont was walking her room with a rapid pace, a flushed cheek,
and a flashing eye as Fitzroy entered.
"Ha, Fitzroy, you have come," she said, with the tone and bearing of
Elizabeth of England when insult had touched her pride. "I am glad to
see you! I have been insulted."
"Then you shall be avenged!" he said, taking her hand.
"Do you promise it?"
"By the love I bear you, I swear it!"
"Avenge me--wipe out the stain my woman's pride has suffered, and I will
be thy slave!"
"Nay, dearest Kate, I would rather thou wouldst be my bride," he said,
smiling and kissing her cheek.
"Rupert Fitzroy, touch me not! Think not of love! When thou hast
captured this freebooter--when I behold him bound at my feet so low that
I can place my foot upon his neck, I will then be thy bride. Ay, to the
music of his clanking chains shall be performed the marriage rites."
"If not my own honour, thine at least demands his capture and death.
Catharine of Bellamont," he said, kneeling before her and solemnly
elevating his hands, "I swear by the cross that is the emblem of our
holy faith that thou shalt be avenged!"
She looked on his animated features a moment steadily with her full
black eyes, and then said,
"'Tis enough! By thy urgency in this matter thou wilt show thy love for
me, and by my determination to press it to its issue thou mayest
construe mine for thee. I am now calm. Here is the flag I have worked
for thee. It bears thy initials, with the arms of my house, conjoined.
Take it, and beneath it win thy bride."
"Lady, it shall be done, or I will never see thy face more!"
"Ay, it should be for the world's weal that it should be done," she
said, with eloquent fervour, "when every breeze comes tainted with the
smell of blood; when wondering crowds, each with a tale that outweighs
that his fellow bears, in nimble speech deal out to one another hourly
marvels! When in bolts, bars, and locks before unknown in this peaceful
land, each household, for leagues along the coast, seeks ill security
against midnight dangers! When the fisherman fears to launch his boat,
and towns count their strength and weigh the odds (as if a foe were
thundering at their gates) against sudden surprise. When he who spreads
such terror is captured, I will then be thine!"
"For this very enterprise am I now preparing. Within this last half hour
I have got a ship that sails like the wind, which, with arms and
ammunition on board, will place me on a better deck than that I have
lost."
"Why did you delay to tell this, and lead me to blame you in my thoughts
for supineness?"
"I would have kept it secret from thee till I had sailed."
"Wherefore?"
"Having," he said, with hesitation, "some regard for your former
love--friendship, I should say."
"Love it once was, therefore speak out and call it love!"
"I feared this might lead you to dissuade me from it. But this sudden
attitude you have assumed fills me with surprise and admiration."
"Rupert Fitzroy, have you not been told from what peril I was but now
saved? Have you forgotten how, in a jealous fit, you have unawares let
drop that Robert Kyd, with his false lips, had said--no matter
what--but, being false, can never be forgiven? Until this man is captive
and lying at her feet in chains, Catharine of Bellamont's hand shall not
be given in marriage. You have heard me, Fitzroy?" she added, retiring
to the farther part of her room, as if she would be left alone.
"I have, and you shall be obeyed," he replied, leaving the boudoir.
The next morning but one a merchant-ship was hauled from the dock in
which she had been several weeks lying, undergoing repairs; and two guns
from the Rondeel, and several from the other forts, were placed on board
of her, making eight in all. With a bold and willing crew, most of whom
had volunteered on the service, at sundown she got under weigh, under
the command of Fitzroy, accompanied by Edwin his secretary, and put to
sea in search of the bucanier. She sailed through the Narrows instead of
Hell Gate, a fisherman having informed him, as they were getting under
weigh, that he had seen a vessel answering the description of the pirate
sailing towards the mouth of the Raritan; and as sufficient time had
elapsed to have enabled him to sail up through the Sound and double
Montauk Point, Fitzroy determined to go in pursuit of the vessel
mentioned by the fisherman.
The promontory off which Kyd had anchored at the mouth of the Raritan,
now called Perth Amboy, descended on the south side to the river above
named, with a gentle inclination. On the east it was washed by the
waters of Staten Island Sound, and the island which gives name to it
stretched east of it, with its high wooded bank far towards the north,
till it terminated in New-York Bay. On the summit of the promontory was
a small rustic church, with a slender spire towering high above the
surrounding trees and humble hamlets. Around the church was a primitive
graveyard, with here and there the unpretending tombstone which
designated the last resting-place of some English Protestant or French
Huguenot. From this rural cemetery was a wide view of island, main, and
ocean.
It was twilight when the bucanier's vessel anchored beneath this
promontory. At midnight the little churchyard presented a singular
scene. In a deep shadow cast by the moon on the west side of the lonely
church, were gathered a group of men--the pale light shining broadly
upon their rude costume and savage features, mingled with the red flame
of dark lanterns, giving them a singularly wild appearance. They were
standing with superstitious awe round an open grave, from which the
fresh body had just been dishumed and was now lying white and glaring in
its shroud upon the ground not far off. Over the grave stood the wizard
Cusha, and beside it glittered heaps of treasure. Apart walked Kyd in
thought, occasionally turning to the grave, and then walking with
quicker pace and uttering his thoughts half aloud:
"Though reason tells me there is nothing in it, and laughs at charms,
spells, and incantations curling her lip with incredulity, I cannot get
the mastery o'er this superstition, but live its very slave, using the
instruments of her dark craft as if my destiny and they were linked, yet
scorning while I use them."
"All's ready, sir, black wizard and all," said the mate, approaching him
and interrupting his meditations.
"You treat too lightly these ceremonies, mate! There may be deeper
meaning in them than you dream of."
"If the infernal pit is at the bottom of them, they are deep enough!
This negro wizard looks ugly enough to be the devil's grandfather."
"No more, Loff. Is all prepared?"
"All."
"Then give orders to the men."
"Ay, ay, sir. All hands to bury money!"
The pirates gathered round the grave, part of their number thrown into
the shadow cast by the tower of the church, the remainder exposed to the
full light of the moon. And moon scarcely ever shown on stranger or
wilder scene. The negro was seated sullenly, with his head on his knees,
upon the pile of grave-dirt, nor had he spoken until Kyd now approached
and addressed him.
"If, as thou dost profess, dark slave, power to thee is delegated, by
her whom thou hast served, to deal with beings of another world, by this
amulet I wear I command thy service and obedience!"
As he spoke he held the amulet up to his view.
The wizard crossed his hands on his breast, and bowed himself to the
ground.
"Cusha is thy slave. Speak."
"There lies heaped beside thee countless treasure--jewels, stones of
price, gold and silver coin untold--each ounce of which has been
purchased by its weight of human blood. What is so dearly bought should
be safely stored and guarded. Perhaps some future day, awearied of the
ocean, we may give up our roving life and settle down honest country
gentlemen. We shall then need it to buy men's tongues and memories! Now
perform the mystic orgies prescribed for such occasions."
The wizard slowly rose to his feet, and walked deliberately three times
around the grave, the pirates giving back as he walked in superstitious
alarm. The third time he began to chant, in a low key, unintelligibly;
but, gradually rising in wildness and distinctness, he, with strange
gestures and contortions of form and face, broke forth into the
following chant:
"Beelzebub, prince of air!
Mortals worship thee."
He elevated his arms as he sung this in an attitude of wild devotion.
"Apollyon, prince of sea!
Mortals worship thee."
He stretched his arms towards the sea as he chanted, and a sudden dash
and roar of its wares upon the beach rose to the ears of the listeners
with an appalling sound.
"Sathanas, prince of earth!
Mortals worship thee."
He struck the earth with his foot as he repeated the words, and then,
prostrating himself, kissed the ground.
"Lucifer, prince of air!
Mortals worship thee."
The wind seemed to sigh through the trees and to howl about the church
tower as he recited the mystic verse. Then, with a singular union of all
the gestures and ceremonies he had hitherto used, he chanted, in a tone
that echoed like a chorus of demons through the surrounding forests,
"Prince of air, earth, sea and fire!
Mortals bow and worship thee!"
"It's an accursed lie!" suddenly cried Loff, the mate, who, with the
pirate crew, had been an appalled listener and spectator of the scene.
"Hist!" exclaimed Kyd, in a suppressed voice, forcibly grasping his arm;
"a word of incredulity will destroy the spell."
"I have too much respect for my soul, captain, to let this black son of
darkness sell it to the devil so glibly."
"Silence! Observe him!"
The wizard again began to chant, acknowledging the presence of each
element by some appropriate gesture as he named it:
"By thy four great names we call thee!
By the power thou hast conferr'd,
Let our voices now be heard!
By fire we call on thee!"
He then seized a torch held by one of the men, and waved it to and fro
above his head.
"By water we call on thee!"
From a cruise that he had placed beside him, he took up water in his
palm and cast it into the air.
"By air we call on thee!"
He waved his arms upward, and a sound like the rushing of wind passed
over them, and every torch flickered with the sudden agitation of the
atmosphere.
"By earth we call on thee!"
He cast into the air a handful of the grave-dirt, which fell back to the
ground with a hollow noise like the rumbling sound of an earthquake.
Every man stood appalled. Suddenly he ceased, and took, with much form
and ceremony, a black cat from a pouch slung at his waist. He elevated
her in one hand, while in the other he held a drawn knife above her, and
chanted, turning the animal slowly round,
"No spot of white
Must meet the sight!
Thrice shall it wave
Above the grave!
At a single blow
The blood must flow!"
He waved his knife at the repetition of the second couplet thrice above
the grave, and at the close of the last line severed the head of the
animal, which, with the body, he dropped into it. Instantly there issued
flames and dense smoke from it, which first lighted up the scene wildly
for a moment, and then left it in murky darkness. When the black volumes
of vapour rolled away, the wizard was standing astride the grave in the
attitude of a sacrificer, his blood-dripping knife in his outstretched
arm: he then began to chant,
"'Tis kindled, kindled!
Lucifer our prayer has heard!
In his name
Feed the flame!
If dies the fire, the charm is broken!"
Then turning to Kyd, he cried,
"The book with name not to be spoken!
The book, the book to feed the flame,
The book, the book none dare to name!"
"Think he means the Holy Bible, Captain Kyd?" demanded Loff, with
religious horror.
"Silence!" cried the pirate chief.
He took from the folds of his cloak as he spoke a thick book, and gave
it to the wizard, who received it with three several prostrations. He
then tore it in pieces and cast the leaves into the grave. Instantly
blue flame rose from it to a great height, thunder rolled in startling
peals, while the most vivid lightning hissed and glared around them; at
the same instant the bell in the church tower tolled without human aid
with a sound so deep and solemn, so wild and unearthly, that every man
was filled with consternation and horror. The wizard alone stood
unmoved; and standing with one foot upon the treasure, chanted,
"One half the sacrifice is o'er.
In the grave your treasure pour!
He who seeks must seek again,
He who digs will dig in vain!"
"Thus much is over," said Kyd, advancing. "Pour the coin and jewels into
the grave."
"Shiver my timbers! if I understand this!" exclaimed Loff. "There is
more of Old Hoofs to do in the matter than I expected, or you wouldn't
have caught me here. Umph! this black wizard smells of brimstone!"
After all the treasure was poured into the grave, the wizard, looking,
as the moon shone upon his form and features, more like a demon than
human, stood across it, and looked around malevolently upon the pirates
as they leaned upon their spades prepared to refill it. After a moment's
silence he began, in the same wild, monotonous chant:
"Safe from every human eye
Shalt this gold securely lie;
When a mortal who has seen
The treasure placed the grave within,
Shall in the grave alive be thrown:
This done, the spot shall ne'er be known.
And finish'd then the rites will be,
Mortal, thou hast sought from me!"
"If I had my doubts before about his being leagued with Beelzebub, not
one have I left now," said Loff, with indignation. "I can see a fellow
walk a plank or seized up to the yardarm, but I am too tender-hearted to
see such a thing done as he hints at in his infernal rhymes."
The whole pirate crew seemed to be animated by the same feelings. At
first general consternation prevailed; but, gathering confidence, they
whispered together, casting the while revengeful looks towards the
wizard. Suddenly, by one impulse, they laid their hands, without
speaking, upon him, and cast him headlong into the grave; and then,
acting as one man, filled it up with its living occupant in a moment of
time. The first action of Kyd was to spring forward and rescue him; but
the determined attitude of his men, whose minds were too highly wrought
up to be held under control, checked the impulse. He stood by till the
grave was smoothed over, so that not a vestige of it remained, and was
then about to command them to return to the brig, which was seen through
the trees lying at her anchor near the land; but ere he could give the
order, the flame of a gun fired from her flashed upon his eyes, followed
by a loud report, that echoed in many a deep, rumbling note along the
wooded shore.
"A signal of alarm!" he cried; "to your boats all!"
He hastened forward to the verge of the promontory where the prospect
was unobstructed, and, casting his eyes down the narrow strait that
opens seaward between Staten Island and Sandy Hook, beheld not a mile
off, coming round the headland, a large ship, her tall sails glancing
like snow in the moonlight. Loud and clear rung his voice hastening his
men to the brig, while gun after gun flashed and thundered from her,
calling them on board to her defence. In less than five minutes three
boats loaded with the pirates put off from the shore and pulled swiftly
in the direction of the brig. Kyd stood up steering the foremost one.
But the wind blew steadily and strong in from sea, and the strange ship
came on so fast that she was soon no farther off from their vessel than
they themselves. It was plain she knew what she was about.
"Strain every nerve, men!" he cried, in an even, determined voice that
reached every ear, while its coolness was more effectual in inspiring
confidence than loud shouts would have been. "Pull together and
steadily! She must not reach the brig before us. Now, all together!
Lively, lively! A few strokes and we shall reach her."
But they were yet several hundred yards from her, and the stranger came
ploughing his way down without taking in a sail or altering his course,
save just enough to enable him to cut off the boats, the approach of
which, as well as the relative position of the brig with the shore, he
was able to discern by the aid of the moon, which filled the atmosphere
with brilliant light. In the mean while the brig cut her anchor, and,
swinging round, with her diminished force directed a feeble and
irregular fire towards her. But she kept on her course in majestic
silence, without returning it and without apparent injury; and, ere the
boats could reach their vessel, she sailed in between it and them, and
poured a broadside into each. The brig felt the fire in every spar; but
the boats, being so low in the water, escaped without injury, the shot
flying high above the heads of the pirates, and crashing among the
forests on the shore. The brig was now evidently in the power of the
ship; and Kyd, finding that it would be impossible to reach her, shouted
through the smoke, that settled thickly over the water, to his mate
Lawrence whom he had left on board with but a dozen men,
"Let them not take her! Blow her up, and to your boat!"
His voice was distinctly heard by every man both in the brig and ship.
"Hard up! hard, hard!" was instantly heard in the clear voice of
Fitzroy; and the ship, which was steering so as to lay the brig aboard,
fell off and stood in towards shore. The moment afterward a small boat
was seen to put off from the brig, which a few seconds afterward blew up
with a terrible explosion, suddenly turning night, for many miles
around, into broad day, and shaking the earth with the tremendous
concussion. For an instant the air was filled with a shower of missiles,
and trains of fire lighting up sea, forest, and boats with a momentary
and wild glare; then all sunk into darkness, and the pale moon once more
struggled to assert her right to the empire of her own gentle light,
which had been so suddenly invaded.
"Now, my men, we are left to our own resources," said Kyd. "There is not
water enough for this ship to pass up this narrow sound. Let us pull
through it. Who our pursuer is I have no idea: a small corvette, sent
expressly by the king in pursuit, doubtless. But let us do our best to
get off. We shall find some trader in the harbour, and will cast
ourselves on board of her. There is no other chance!"
His address was received with a shout, and the four boats, Lawrence
having now joined them, began to pull northward through the Staten
Island Sound. The ship, in the mean while, after recovering the ground
she had lost in avoiding the explosion, stood steadily on after the
boats, which were not a quarter of a mile ahead, occasionally firing a
bowchaser at the little fleet. The chase continued for half an hour, the
pirates keeping the lead gallantly, and, being enabled to cross shoals
by their lighter draught, occasionally they got far ahead, while the
ship was slowly following the circuitous channel.
"She has a pilot who knows the ground," said Kyd, as he beheld the ship
navigate safely an intricate reach of the narrow passage. "If he clears
the Red Bank we have just come across, he will do what ship has never
done before--go through into York Bay! Now she comes to it!" he cried,
with animation, rising in his boat and watching the advance of the ship
across the shoal. Suddenly he exclaimed, while a shout went up from the
men, who were so interested at this crisis of the pursuit that they
forgot to pull at the oar,
"She has struck, and heavily too! There goes her fore-topgallant-mast
like a pipestem!"
"She will off with the flood," said Lawrence.
"It is full flood now. She will stick there as long as two timbers hold
together, unless they pitch their guns overboard," said Loff.
"Ho, my lads, all!" suddenly cried Kyd, addressing them; "she is now
ours. Back water! Let us carry her as she lies!"
He was answered by a loud hurrah, and the boats' heads were instantly
turned towards the ship, which was about half a mile off. The boats shot
forward with velocity, pushing before them vast surges which their
ploughing bows turned up from the surface. They had got within half
their distance of her, when boats were lowered from every part of her,
and, as if by magic, filled with men.
"They are on the alert! He who commands her knows his business!" said
Kyd, who, as his boats approached, had stood up in the stern of his own,
with his drawn cutlass extended towards the vessel, inspiring his men
and panting for the conflict. But, at this indication of their readiness
to receive him, he suddenly cried, turning and waving his hand to the
boats in the rear,
"Hold on!"
He then surveyed the enemy, and said in a calm, deep tone, every accent
of which was expressive of his determined purpose,
"There are six boats, with at least twenty men in each; we number fifty
or sixty only. Nevertheless, we must fight them!"
This proposition, notwithstanding the previous ardour of the crew, was
received with a universal murmur of dissent.
"We are willing to pull towards New-York Bay, Captain Kyd," said Loff,
"and take possession of some of the craft there; but there are too many
odds against us to risk fighting yonder barges. Besides, on the bows of
the largest boat I can see a gun relieved against the wake of the moon."
"It is too true. We shall be likely to have the worst of it," said Kyd,
suppressing his rage, which was ready to burst forth at the refusal of
his men, and satisfied on a second glance that it would be useless to
attempt, with his ill-armed crew, to capture a flotilla of boats so well
prepared both for attack and defence. "Put away, and let us get through
this narrow sound at our best speed! If they pursue us we will lead them
a long chase."
He was answered by a cheer from his men and a simultaneous dash of the
numerous oars into the water, under the force of which the boats moved
up the strait with direct and rapid motion. At the same instant a gun of
heavy metal was discharged from the bows of the headmost boat of their
pursuers, loaded with grape; but the leaden shower fell far short of
them; while, at the same instant, with loud cheers, all the barges left
the side of the ship and commenced hot pursuit of the pirate boats.
"A twelve-pounder by its report," said Kyd, "and it would have done
mischief if it had been elevated half an inch higher. Pull, men! they
will shoot better the next time!" he shouted, waving his sword with
animation and cheering them on.
Away they flew, pursuing and pursued! At one moment the ship's boats
would be almost upon them, when the pirates would shoot from the main
channel into some creek or bayou intersecting the marshy shores, and
re-enter the Sound far above them. At intervals the twelve-pounder broke
with a loud roar upon the night, echoing among the woods of Staten
Island and the Jersey shore in multiplied reverberations; and, like a
hurricane, its cloud of bullets would rush along the air, or plough and
skip along the surface of the water, but with little effect. On they
went, pursuing and pursued, neither yielding or showing signs of
fatigue. At length the moon hung low over the western horizon, and
shone with a cold, watery look; in the east flakes of light spotted the
sky, and the darkness began to break before the dawn. Gradually the ashy
hue of the sky became clearer, and changed to a delicate pink; and then,
waxing brighter, grew to vermillion, till the whole eastern sky blushed
with the incipient dawn. The clouds that hung about the path of the
coming sun began to turn out edges of gold, and the sky to the zenith to
radiate with beams of glorious dies. The whole heaven, even down to the
low west, had changed its livery of blue for the rose, while the jealous
moon, disdaining to look on a rival whose coming was so gorgeously
heralded, threw a snowy veil over her brow, and sunk, scarce visible on
the brow of morning, beneath the horizon! Suddenly up rose the sun and
filled the world with light!
As the day approached the hostile parties became plainly visible to one
another, and were able to count each other's force. At sunrise the
pirate's boats entered the bay of New-York, leaving Staten Island on the
right, and closely followed within a third of a mile by their pursuers,
pulled directly towards the town, which, with its wall and Rondeel, was
seen rising from the water a league distant. Not far from the shore,
between the Governor's Island and the town, lay three or four small
Dutch yachts at anchor, waiting for the change of tide to take them up
to Albany. It was evident, from the course he took, that it was the
intention of Kyd to throw himself on board one of these vessels, and
effect the escape of himself and crew. This seemed to be the idea
suggested to the mind of the leader of the pursuing boats, and he urged
his men forward in the most animated and eager manner. At the stern of
his launch, which took the lead, and in the bows of which was mounted a
twelve-pound carronade, floated a silken flag, on which were conspicuous
the initials of his name and the crest of the house of Bellamont.
"By the cross!" exclaimed Kyd, as the sunlight struck on this flag, and
a passing breeze unfolded it to his eye as he turned to watch the chase,
"'tis the same flag!"
"What flag?" inquired Loff, taking a pocket spyglass from his jacket.
"Ha! you have a glass! Give it me!" he cried, hastily. "By Heaven!" he
cried, after a moment's surveying, "'tis the same! The very initials.
Now the wind opens it. 'Tis the same with the earl's crest! What can it
mean? This youth Edwin may have become her champion since I so foolishly
gave him his liberty! He, and none else, commands the barges! But there
is too much skill displayed in directing the pursuit to emanate from a
boy like him! Yet why this flag? Among the dense mass of heads beneath I
cannot distinguish the leader's features!"
"Shall we board the nearest yacht?" asked Loff. "We shall soon be close
upon them."
Kyd turned and found that he was within a mile of three sloops that lay
under the guns of the Rondeel. He looked back and saw that the barges
were coming with increased speed, and would be up with him by the time
he could reach the vessels. He cheered on his men with every gesture and
word of encouragement; but, with all their exertions, he perceived that
at every dip of their sweeps his pursuers gained on him.
At length the carronade from the leading boat opened upon them for the
first time since sunrise and with terrible effect upon the nearest boat,
commanded by Lawrence. Nearly every bullet told in the plank or flesh;
and the ill-fated boat, which seemed to have received the whole charge
from the piece, instantly went down, leaving (so effectually had it been
converted into their coffin) only Lawrence and one of his comrades
floating wounded upon the surface.
"For the yacht--never stop to pick him up! for the yacht! Your lives
depend on your reaching it!" shouted Kyd, with desperation. "Pull, ye
dogs! Strong! together all! Bend to your sweeps like devils! In five
minutes we'll be on board."
But the crew of the sloop, consisting of three or four men only, were
already aware of their danger; and, cutting their cable, hoisted their
jib and mainsail with what haste the occasion demanded, and, aided by
the wind and tide, moved swiftly down the harbour beyond their reach.
The other vessels followed this example as rapidly as possible; and, ere
the pirates could get alongside, they were sailing away at a rate that
defied pursuit.
"We are foiled by the devil's own aid!" said Kyd. He paused a moment.
His pursuers were close upon him, and, save the shore, there was no
avenue of escape. To delay and fight with his reduced number, even if
his jaded and dispirited men would consent to it, would have been
certain capture and death. For an instant he paused, and then said, in
the calm, deliberate tone he was accustomed to use in times of most
imminent peril,
"We must pull in shore and fight our way across the town to the East
River, where we can cut out one of the vessels in the dock. There is no
alternative! The town's people will scarce resist us! Will you land and
let me lead you, men?"
"Ay, to the shore!" was the general cry; and swiftly the boats cut
their way towards the foot of the Rondeel, which they approached on the
western side, out of the range of its few remaining guns. Close in hot
pursuit came the barges, pouring in upon them a constant and fatal
discharge of firearms. The carronade was no longer fired, as its rebound
so materially checked the speed of the boat that it soon fell behind all
the others.
"Leave your oars and draw your cutlasses!" cried Kyd, as the boats
struck the beach near the spot where he had landed when he attempted to
convey Kate Bellamont to it. It was not far from the Rondeel, on the
west of the governor's house.
With a shout the pirates bounded on shore, about forty in number, and,
hastily forming in a body, headed by Kyd, with drawn sabres and pistols,
were rapidly led by him around the base of the fort and across the lawn
in the direction of Jost Stoll's tavern and the West Dock. The garrison
in the Rondeel was so taken by surprise at the boldness of the
bucaniers, that, before they could prepare to dispute their landing,
they were moving at a rapid and steady pace across the grounds in front
of the White Hall towards the wicket that led into the town. But here
they were met with unexpected resistance. At the head of full eighty
burghers, whom he had hastily armed and assembled to oppose this strange
invasion from the sea, the Earl of Bellamont advanced upon them through
the gate.
"Be men!" cried the earl to his command. "Remember, though unused to
arms, you now fight for your homes, your wives, your children, your own
lives, and all ye hold dear. Charge them ere they can form their body!"
The governor himself rushed forward, sword in hand, as he spoke, the
sturdy burghers with a shout pressed on, and the two parties were
immediately engaged in a sanguinary conflict. The pirates fought with
demoniac fury, while the townsmen, excited by the smell of powder and
the clash of steel, dealt blows that told wherever they fell.
Nevertheless, the bucaniers, by long habit, discipline, and indifference
to danger, got the better of them, though scarcely numbering half their
force, and drove them, in spite of the cries and commands of the earl,
towards the gate. Everywhere Kyd was present, and high above the sounds
of conflict was heard his voice cheering and encouraging. But, though
victors for the moment, they were soon confronted with a fresh and
better disciplined foe. The barges had by this time landed their crews,
and they now advanced upon them with loud cries and in overpowering
numbers.
"Face them! Fight each man for his own life!" shouted Kyd, as, on
turning from the discomfiture of the burghers, he beheld the advance of
his pursuers.
The combat was now waged with terrific fury. Now the victor, now the
vanquished, Kyd attacked and defended with a degree of skill and courage
that, employed in a better cause, should have had a better result. At
length his men, being broken into small parties, were overpowered, and
either slain or disarmed. He alone defended himself against a numerous
division that had pressed him towards an oak, the branches of which grew
near the window of Kate Bellamont's boudoir. They would have cut him
down by mere force of numbers if they had not suddenly been restrained
by the commanding voice of Fitzroy, who hitherto had been engaged in
another part of the field.
"Hold, men! Back, and leave him to me!" he cried, advancing towards Kyd
through the lane opened to him by his men.
"Ha! does the sea give back its dead?" cried Kyd, with horror, dropping
his red cutlass and gazing upon him with mortal fear. "Can it be! Speak,
I conjure thee, if thou art flesh and blood!"
"Monster, this day shall terminate thy career of crime!" replied
Fitzroy, preparing to cut him down.
"By the mass! flesh or blood, I'll have a bout with thee!" cried Kyd,
reassured by his voice, seizing a sabre from one of the men he had
slain. "Ho! for Kate Bellamont!"
"Ha, villain! For _thyself_, then!"
A fierce broadsword combat ensued between them, and continued for a few
seconds with equal skill and energy. At length the sword of Fitzroy
caught in the strand of hair about Kyd's neck and severed it. Instantly
the amulet it sustained dropped to the ground. Kyd's confidence and
courage seemed to fail him at once, and, striking at random, he was soon
disarmed by his cooler adversary, and his life placed at his mercy.
"Strike!" said the bucanier, despondingly.
The victor was about to obey, when his uplifted arm was arrested by a
shriek from the balcony, and the voice of Kate Bellamont crying,
"Spare him! save him, Fitzroy!"
The point of his weapon sunk at his feet, and he bent low to her in
acquiescence; then turning to his men, he said,
"Bind him. My lord, what shall be done with him? He is at your
disposal."
"Bear him to the prison of the Rondeel, there to await his trial!"
Silent and desponding, yet still holding himself with a dignified and
lofty bearing, the captive pirate chief was borne, with his few
surviving followers, to a dungeon in the Rondeel, while the earl,
Fitzroy, and Edwin (who had not participated in the contest) together
entered the Hall, leaving their victorious party to clear the
ensanguined field of the melancholy traces of the morning's fight.