The foe, invulnerable still,
Foiled his wild rage by steady skill,
Till, at advantage ta'en, his brand
Forced Roderick's weapon from his hand.
_Lady of the Lake_.
*Orano*. We offer you the post of captain, sir.
*Ortega*. I accept--with conditions.
_The Onslaught_.
A pirate ship, and a pirate crew.
_Old Song_.
The swords were brought. A clear space was left upon the deck for the
combatants to move in, around which the sailors--first those who had
stood near to the quarter-deck, and afterwards those from the more
forward parts of the vessels formed a ring; all were eager and intensely
interested, but quiet spectators. Seeing the officers offering no
interference, they no doubt considered that it was also their part to
make no interruption. Mr Dempster acted as second to Marston; Mr
Brown, better known as Bowsprit, acted as second to John Coe.
The swords were measured by the seconds and found of equal length. As
both the weapons belonged to Captain Marston, the choice of them was
offered to the prisoner, who took one of them at once, apparently
without making any selection. The combatants were then placed in
position; the salutes with the blades were given, and the fight began.
It was very soon apparent that young Coe was the more expert swordsman.
Captain Marston had, when young, as most young gentlemen of fortune were
in the habit of doing, taken lessons in the small-sword exercise; but he
had of late been accustomed only occasionally to combats with the
cutlass; and such conflicts--as even one who is not an expert at either
weapon must know--must rather tend to diminish than increase one's skill
with the small-sword. His antagonist, on the contrary, had been in the
habit for years of practising play with foils with young gentlemen in
his neighbourhood, so that he had much improved his skill of late years.
The sword-points were scarcely crossed before John was aware that his
adversary's life was in his hands. This discovery was a great relief to
his mind. He placed no faith in the pledges given by Captain Marston's
officers; on the contrary, he felt assured that, if he should kill one
who had virtually acknowledged himself to be a pirate chief, his own
life would be forfeited; even if the officers should keep their pledges
to the letter, the common sailors were bound by no pledge. These
reflections caused him to use all his efforts to disarm his adversary;
and added to these considerations, inducing him to pursue such a course,
was the memory of early associations, and also the apparent generosity
of his foe in granting him a combat at all, as equal almost as it could
be made under the circumstances.
Captain Marston, too, became very soon aware that he was fighting
against one who was superior in the use of the weapon which he had
selected. Shaken from his usual self-possession by a knowledge of this
fact, and irritated by the forbearance of one whom he had considered his
inferior with any weapon, and especially with the one which he had
chosen, he made the mistake usual in such cases,
"And showered his blows like wintry rain."
John Coe, on the contrary, kept perfect control of his faculties. For
an instant he retreated rapidly before the violent assault of his
adversary; but the next moment, with a short, sudden and powerful blow
of his sword, he sent Captain Marston's weapon flying over his own head.
His own sword-point was immediately at the captain's breast.
There was a sensation among the spectators at this sudden and totally
unexpected result of the combat; but there was no movement towards any
interference.
Captain Marston's arms dropped by his side. He stood before his
antagonist, as if ready to receive his sword-thrust. Coe stood,
meanwhile, with his sword fixed, as it were, in the same position, while
he kept his eyes firmly bent upon those of his conquered adversary.
"I am at your mercy, Mr Coe," said Captain Marston, at length in a
voice that palpitated, if I may use the term, partly on account of his
recent violent exertion, and partly because of surprise at his defeat.
"I wish you no harm," answered the victor, lowering his sword-point. "I
only wished to show that had I been assailed by open force, I should not
have been easily made a prisoner."
The expression of the faces of the lookers-on showed that their captive
had risen very highly in their estimation within the last few minutes.
The most brutal and debased human being in the world still admires manly
courage and magnanimity. The determined bearing of the prisoner,
indicating a perfect preservation of his self-respect and self-reliance,
in such adverse circumstances, and his willingness, even eagerness to
prove his manhood by fighting Captain Marston in the very presence of
his band, and the coolness, skill, and self-control which he had
exhibited in winning and in using his victory, all manifested those
qualities which men most admire in men. Captain Marston saw the
admiration of his prisoner which was expressed in the faces of his
officers and men; and he immediately resorted to an expedient which, by
exhibiting on his part a generosity apparently equal, but in fact more
than equal, to that of his adversary, might neutralise to some extent
the injury which may have been done to his standing in the opinions of
his band by the result of the contest.
"You see, gentlemen," he said, addressing his ship's company, "that in
the opinion which I have heretofore expressed to you of my friendly foe,
I have not overrated his merits. Let us have three hearty cheers for
John Alvan Coe."
The three cheers called for were immediately given with a will.
"I further propose, gentlemen," said Captain Marston, "that we proceed
forthwith to form the corps of marines which I have before spoken of to
you, and that Mr Coe be offered the captaincy of that band."
"And with all due deference to Captain Vance," exclaimed Afton, before
Captain Marston's proposition could be acted upon, and with his usual
intermingling of expletives, "I propose that we either make Mr Coe
commander of this brig, or throw him overboard. For my part, I should
prefer to have the latter alternative carried out. No divided command
can exist except to our disadvantage. If Mr Coe is, in your opinion,
superior to Captain Vance, make him our chief; but do not give to him a
charge which, unless he and the captain entirely agree, may cause civil
war on board the brig."
"I beg to differ with my honoured friend, Lieutenant Afton," said
Bowsprit, facing the ship's company. "As Mr Coe has proved himself a
brave and skilful man, we should try to secure him as a co-partner in
our enterprises. As he is a born and bred gentleman, there are cogent
reasons why he should hold a respectable position among us. But,
although he has shown that he is superior to Captain Vance in the use of
the small-sword, we are not therefore to suppose that he is co-equal
with our distinguished chieftain in experience in seamanship and in
habits of command. Nor would our new friend rank, in the position
proposed, with our captain; he would be co-ordinate in rank with
Lieutenant Seacome. There would be no danger of a conflict of authority
with Captain Vance; there is a commander of marines on board of every
man-of-war. I cannot, therefore, agree with either of the propositions
of my distinguished friend Afton. His first would be unjust to our
captain, his second would be an equal wrong to the gallant new comer. I
second Captain Vance's motion."
The speech of Billy Bowsprit was received with much applause, and the
proposition of the captain was adopted by a vote of two to one. Mr
Afton had his admirers among those old salts who were, like himself,
rough in language, and especially hardened in crime. These men were not
influenced in their votes by the authority of the captain, or the
eloquence of Billy Bowsprit.
"And now, Mr Coe," said the captain, "will you do me the honour of
accepting the post to which we have elected you, and give me the
pleasure of being the first to name you by your new title, Captain Coe,
of the marine force?"
Young Coe remembered the conversation upon this very subject which he
had held, in anticipation, with Ada Revere, and her advice as to the
course which he should pursue, should the offer be made to him. He
called to mind also that, immediately preceding his duel with Captain
Marston, she had declared that she was indebted to himself for an
important service. He knew that that unfortunate girl must be better
qualified by experience than he was himself to guide his course in
relation to this matter. He determined, therefore, that he would
consult with her again, and, should he find her sincere in her friendly
feelings towards him, to be governed by her counsel in the desperate
strait in which he was placed. With this purpose in view he made answer
to Captain Marston's question--
"Your offer, Captain Vance, and gentlemen," he said, addressing the
officers and seamen, and, for the first time, giving the captain of the
brig his assumed name, "so changes the relation which I bore towards you
but a few moments ago, that I must beg of you to grant me a little time
to consider this question so suddenly placed before me. With your
permission, I will retire for a few moments, and then return and give
you my decision. In any case, I thank you for the favour you have shown
to me."
Having thus spoken on deck, he retired to the cabin. In the saloon he
found Ada Revere. She sat upon a sofa, with her head resting upon her
hands. On the entrance of our hero she rose at once to meet him, and
her face, which had been sad, expressed a sense of relief.
"Oh! I am so glad to see you, Mr Coe," she said. "Your face seems to
show that nothing unpleasant has resulted from the state of things in
which I left you. Tell me--do tell me quickly--what has happened?"
John related to her all that had occurred.
"And now, Miss Revere," he added, "I have come to ask an explanation of
your language when you spoke some time ago of being under an obligation
to me. When I saw you at the old manor house, your face seemed familiar
to me. I thought that that recognition was accounted for by my having
seen you in your boy's dress, at the Spout on Saint Leonard's Creek.
But you appeared to refer to an acquaintance between us dating, farther
into the past."
"I can see nothing wrong, Mr Coe," answered the beautiful girl, "in
telling you--in outline, at least--all my history. Do you remember Ada
Ashleigh, who was one of your schoolmates at the old Manor Quarter
school-house situate between Millmont and Drum Point?"
"Certainly I do," was the answer. "What a sweet and guileless little
girl she was!"
"I was that little girl, Mr Coe," said Ada. "Do you not remember that,
when any of the schoolchildren charged me with being the daughter of a
man who received smuggled goods, after my father was brought before a
court in Baltimore on such a charge, you always took my part? And
once--an occasion which I shall never forget--when Mr Dempster, now an
officer on board of this brig, but then a boy almost a year older than
yourself, wounded my feelings even to weeping by his jeers, you rebuked
him so severely for being rude, as you said, to a harmless little girl,
that he challenged you to fight. I shall never forget the gratitude
which I felt towards you for championing my cause, and my delight when
you handled Dempster so roughly, that he was obliged to acknowledge
himself beaten, and to promise never to say a harsh word to me again."
"We had heard in Calvert," said John Alvan, "that Ada Ashleigh had made
a runaway marriage in Baltimore, for which she was disinherited by her
father. Since that intelligence was received, two or three years ago, I
have heard nothing of her fate."
"That runaway marriage was between me and Harry Marston," said Ada. "He
intended it for a false marriage; and when he told me that it was such,
I believed his words. But I learned, nearly a year ago now, from the
friend of Captain Marston, whom he engaged to procure the services of
some one, not a minister of the gospel, to perform the ceremony, that we
had actually been wedded by a regular priest, and I have since obtained
from that priest a certificate of the marriage. The conscience of Henry
Marston's friend would not, at the last, allow him to take part in such
deceit. My father never knew that it was with Captain Marston that I
left his house; nor have I yet been able to summon the necessary courage
to inform Captain Marston that we are really married. I wish that he
knew it. I am sure that, had he been acquainted with the fact, he would
never have commissioned me, his own wife, to act the part which he meant
that I should act during your imprisonment at the old manor house and at
the hut."
"I would tell him for you myself, unhesitatingly," remarked John Alvan,
"but the information would come most properly from you."