"Stand from under, lads! stand from under!"
For the huge gate was cracking in every part, and with a loud crash down
it came, crushing one poor fellow, the rest with difficulty escaping.
Don Lobo heard the shout and the crash. His eye was for an instant
withdrawn from his sword's point to look at the falling gate. That
instant was fatal to him, and Edward's weapon entering his bosom, he
fell backwards to the ground, while his own sword fell useless from his
grasp. As the gate gave way, the fierce and eager countenances of the
English seamen were seen in the entrance, led on by Waymouth.
"St. George and merry England!" they shouted. "Down with the Portugals!
Hurrah! hurrah!"
"An' you cry `Down with the Portugals!' just be sure if there are
Portugals to put down," cried Dick. "The mouse has got into the cheese
before you, mates; but there is no lack of mites yet to eat. On--on,
lads!"
Dick narrowly escaped a clout on the head by his facetiousness.
Fortunately, daylight came in through the open gateway, and through the
smoke and dust his features were recognised in time. The whole party
now rushed forward. Some of the Portugals in narrow, passages made a
stand, but they were forced back and driven from chamber to chamber till
every part of the castle was in the hands of the English.
"The miser's gold! the miser's gold!" was now the cry. "Where are his
strong boxes? Bring him forth, and make him tell us."
Several hurried off to search for the late governor. Edward might have
told them of his fate, but he, mindful of poor Don Joao, had gone to
look for his unfortunate acquaintance, and to save him, if possible,
from insult or violence.
Here and there the sound of strife might still be heard as a few of the
braver spirits who had retreated, not aware how entirely the castle was
in the power of the English, were defending themselves in rooms and
galleries from small parties of adventurers who had separated from the
main body in search of plunder.
Edward had made inquiries both of Portugals and English if they knew
aught of Don Joao. At length, led by the sound of clashing steel, he
found his way, with the few men he had got to follow him, into the
circular chamber of a distant tower. There in a deep window recess
clustered three or four priests holding crucifixes in their hands, some
dark-skinned women in their picturesque costume, and some native
attendants. Before them stood Don Joao, with five or six Portugal
soldiers, defending themselves with their swords against the attacks of
four or five English sailors, who were hewing and hacking away, not with
much science, but with such furious blows that they had already cut down
two or more Portugals, and were now hard pressing the old soldier. He
was bleeding from more than one wound, and was evidently little able to
hold out against assailants so persevering. Edward hurried forward,
ordering the Englishmen to desist; but they either would not or did not
hear him, and before he could interpose his own weapon, a heavy cut from
a rapier brought the old man to the ground.
"For shame, men!" exclaimed Edward, saving the old soldier from another
blow. "We war not with grey hairs, with priests and women. Let not
another blow be struck."
The Portugals, finding resistance hopeless, threw down their arms.
Edward knelt down by the old man's side, and raised his head. It was
very evident that his last hours were passing by.
"My daughter?" he asked in a faint voice. "Brave Englishman, can you
tell me any thing of my daughter? She had my leave to aid in your
escape. I would have accompanied her had I been able."
Edward felt sick at heart at having to tell the poor father of his
daughter's fate. Yet what could he say?
"Alas! I cannot say but I fear the worst," was his reply.
"I dreaded to hear this, but do not blame you, noble Englishman. The
last link which bound me to earth is broken, and I am ready to quit this
world, which man's folly and wickedness has made so full of woe and
suffering."
These were almost the last words the old man spoke, though the priests
came round and administered the rites of their faith ere his spirit
quitted its frail tenement. Even the rough seamen, despisers and haters
of all papistical ceremonies, looked on with respect and awe as the old
soldier's head sank on his breast, and his hand fell powerless by his
side.
Waymouth had taken precautions to secure all the entrances to the castle
while the garrison were committed to the dungeons in which they had been
accustomed to confine the enemies who had the misfortune of falling into
their hands. Those who had gone in search of Don Lobo soon returned,
bearing on a litter his dead body, an officer holding up in triumph a
bunch of keys which had been found in his pockets, and shouting--
"The keys of his money-chests! the keys of his money-chests!"
"The keys are but of small service to us without the chests," remarked
the captain. "Find the chests, men, and we may make small account of
the keys."
A diligent search was therefore commenced for the reputed wealth of the
old governor. It was said that he had employed thirty years in
collecting it, and that he had purposed shortly returning to Europe,
under the vain belief that it would afford him enjoyment and
contentment. Every passage, and corner, and crevice of the castle from
top to bottom was searched, and not a sign of a money-box could be
discovered. Some declared that the governor's wealth was really
fabulous--that is to say, it had no existence; while others affirmed
that it did exist, and would somewhere be discovered. Midshipmen
generally consider hunting for rabbits very good fun, but hunting for
money-chests was very much better. All the cabin-boys of the Lion
hunted round and round and up and down with wonderful zeal. The captain
at last promised that whoever found the wealth should have a tenth
portion of it. This still further excited the diligence of all hands.
Still no chests were forthcoming. Some, in revenge, proposed burning
down the castle, till the captain announced that whoever set it on fire
should be cast into the flames. Again and again the search was renewed.
The prisoners were interrogated, but no one could tell. Rewards were
offered without effect. It was evident that they did not know. Several
said that Pedro Pacheco knew; but that worthy had been run through the
body by a pike, which had struck him in the back as he was making his
escape with a bag of gold under his arm, which he refused to stop and
deliver. The booty was, after all, not so contemptible, for there were
silver plate in large quantities, and jewelled ornaments, and golden
coin; but, as it was not what was expected, no one was contented.
At last Oliver Marston happened to strike his foot against a ring in the
corner of a small room on the ground floor of the castle. It served as
the handle of a stone which without difficulty he lifted. Lights were
brought. A flight of stone steps led to a vault, in which was an iron
door. Crowbars, eagerly brought, forced it open, and there exposed to
view were a dozen large iron chests. The governor's keys were applied,
the lids opened, and exposed to view ingots of gold and silver, and
jewels and coins scarcely to be counted. Wild were the shouts of
delight as chest after chest was opened, and each one in succession
appeared to contain more gold and jewels than the first. The chests
were computed to contain property of even greater value than what was
already on board the Lion. It was no easy work to carry off the chests,
but it was accomplished before the eyelids of one of the victors closed
in sleep. The prisoners were allowed their liberty, the castle was set
on fire, and, while the flames were bursting out on all sides, the Lion
made sail with her rich freight, and stood away to the southward.