The people in the cabin, finding that no good result followed their
violent pounding upon the inside of the companion doors, soon abandoned
so unprofitable an amusement, and I was just beginning to hope that they
had philosophically made up their minds to submit with a good grace to
the inevitable, when _crash_ came a bullet through the teak doors and
past my head in most uncomfortable proximity to my starboard ear.
Smellie looked round at the sound.
"Any damage done, Hawkesley?" he hailed.
"None so far, I thank you," replied I; and as I spoke there was another
report, and another bullet went whizzing past, well to port this time
for a change. A minute or two passed, and then came a regular fusillade
from quite half a dozen pistols discharged simultaneously I should say,
one of the bullets knocking off the worsted cap I wore and grazing the
skin of my right temple sufficiently to send a thin stream of blood
trickling down into the corner of my right eye.
"You seem to be in a warm corner there," hailed Smellie; "but if you can
hold on until we round this point I'll come and relieve you."
"No, thanks, I would very much rather you would continue to con the
ship," I replied.
A minute or two later we rounded the point referred to, and, the creek
widening out considerably, we began to feel the true breeze, when the
schooner, even under the short and ill-set canvas we had been able to
give her, at once increased her speed to about six knots. At the same
time, however, she began to "gripe" most villainously, and with the helm
hard a-weather it was as much as I could possibly do to keep her from
running ashore among the bushes on our starboard hand. The people in
the cabin were still pertinaciously blazing away through the companion
doors at me, and doing some remarkably good shooting, too, taking into
consideration the fact that they could only guess at my whereabouts; but
I was just then far too busy to pay much attention to them. At length,
fearing that, when we got a little lower down and felt the full strength
of the breeze, the schooner would, in spite of all my efforts, fairly
run away with me, I hailed Smellie, and, briefly explaining the
situation to him, asked him to either give her the fore staysail or else
come aft and trice up the tack of the mainsail. He chose the latter
alternative, as leaving the craft under canvas easily manageable by one
hand, and came aft to effect the alteration, hurriedly explaining that
he would relieve me as soon as possible; but that there was still some
difficult navigation ahead which he wanted to see the schooner safely
through.
He triced the tack of the sail close up to the throat of the gaff, and
was about to hurry forward again, when the schooner sheering round a
bend into a new reach, my attention was suddenly attracted by something
ahead and on our lee bow at a distance of perhaps half a mile.
"What is that away there on our lee bow, sir?" I exclaimed; "is it not
a craft of some sort?"
Smellie jumped up on the rail to get a better view, and at the same
moment a pistol shot rang out from the skylight, the bullet evidently
flying close past him. He took not the slightest notice of the shot,
but stood there on the rail with his hand shading his eyes, intently
examining the object we were rapidly nearing.
"It is a brig," said he, "and unless I am very greatly mistaken--but no,
it can't be--and yet it _must_ be too--it surely _is_ the _Vestale_."
"It looks remarkably like her; but I can't make out--confound those
fellows! I wish they would stop firing.--I can't make out the white
ribbon round her sides," said I.
"No, nor can I. And yet it is scarcely possible we can be mistaken.
Luff you may--a little--do not shave her _too_ close. She has no
pennant flying, by the way, whoever she may be. Ah! the rascals have
pinked me after all," as a rattling volley was discharged at him through
the glazed top of the skylight, and I saw him clap his hand to his side.
We were by this time close to the strange brig, on board which lights
were burning in the cabin, whilst several persons were visible on deck.
As we swept down toward her, hugging her pretty closely, a man sprang
into the main rigging and hailed in Spanish:
"_Josefa_ ahoy! What's the matter on board? Why are you going to sea
without a full cargo? Have matters gone wrong at the head of the
creek?"
"No, no," replied Smellie in the same language, which by the way he had
been diligently studying with Antonia's assistance during our sojourn
under Don Manuel's roof--"no, everything is all right; our cargo--"
Unfortunately he was here interrupted by another volley from the cabin,
and at the same time a voice yelled from the schooner's stern windows:
"We are captured; a prize to the accursed Ingleses."
The words were hardly out of the speaker's mouth when three or four
muskets were popped at us from the brig, fortunately without effect. We
were, however, by that time past her, and her crew, who seemed
thoroughly mystified at the whole affair, made no further effort to
molest us. Of one thing, however, we were amply assured, she was not
the _Vestale_. The craft we had just passed--whilst the _double_ of the
French gun-brig in every other respect--was painted black down to her
copper, and she carried under the heel of her bowsprit a life-size
figure of a negress with a scarf striped in various colours round her
waist. _A negress_? Ah! there could not be a doubt of it. "Mr
Smellie," said I, "do you know that craft?"
"N-n-no, I can't say I do, Hawkesley, under her present disguise."
"Disguise, my dear sir; she is not disguised at all. That is the
pirate-brig which destroyed poor Richards' vessel--the _Juliet_. And--
yes--there can scarcely be a doubt about it--she must be the notorious
_Black Venus_ of which the Yankee skipper told us."
Smellie looked at me in great surprise and perplexity for a moment.
"Upon my word, Hawkesley, I verily believe you are right!" he exclaimed
at last. "The _Black Venus_--a negress for a figure-head--ha! are you
hurt?"
"Not much, I think," stammered I, as I braced myself resolutely against
the wheel, determined that I would _not_ give in. The fact was, that
whilst we were talking another shot had been fired through the companion
doors, and had struck me fairly in the right shoulder, inflicting such
severe pain that for the moment I felt quite incapable of using my right
arm. Fortunately the schooner now steered pretty easily, and I could
manage the wheel with one hand.
"We must stop this somehow," said Smellie, again jumping on the rail and
taking a long look ahead.
"Do you see that very tall tree shooting up above the rest, almost
directly ahead?" he continued, pointing out the object as he turned to
me.