When I came to myself, I knew by the lazy rocking of the vessel that it was once more afloat; I was lying on a bench beneath a porthole, and when I turned my head to see more particularly where I was, Mistress Lucy came towards me, her eyes shining with kindness.

"Mistress Lucy!" I cried, trying to rise, but wincing at an exquisite pain in my leg.

"Don't move," she said. "The surgeon said you were to lie quite still."

"The surgeon!" I repeated, scarce believing I had heard aright.

"Yes, you are surprised," she said with a smile; "but that is not the strangest of the many strange things that have happened of late. One of the crew of this vessel was once a surgeon; he took his degrees in Edinburgh, he told me—"

"And that's true," said a harsh voice, and there entered the cabin one of the buccaneers—a big bottle-nosed fellow, with a face of purple hue. "And how are ye the noo, Mister?"

"Mighty shaky!" I said. "What is wrong with me?"

"A bit wound in the dexter femur," he said, "within a hair's breadth like o' your femoral artery and kingdom come.

"But ye'll do fine," he added, feeling my pulse. "Man, ye've good blood in your veins, and me having a good hand at the cutting, we'll verra soon have ye on your two feet again; and the lassie will no like be fashed at that, I'm thinkin'."

"I am to thank you then for cutting out the bullet," I said, and then, remembering how I had come by it, I cried: "Have they got that villain?"

"Meanin' Vetch?" says the man. "Hoots! Ye'll no catch him; he's a slithery man, yon. He was up and awa' before he could be stoppit, with a wheen o' yelling niggers after him. Aweel, I'm no that sorry mysel', for he wasna just what ye would call a gentleman."

I suppose that something of what I was thinking showed in my face, for the Scotchman continued:

"I had naething against him as an employer, ye ken; he was sound wi' the siller; but his dealin' wi' sic a bonny lassie kind o' affrontit me, and I'm well enough pleased ye got the better of him in that regard. I mind o' the time when I had a wee-bit lassie mysel'."

And then the besotted fellow began to weep, and comforted himself with a long pull from a flask he took from his pocket. 'Twas plain that the drink had been his undoing, and indeed, before I parted company with him in Port Royal some days later, he told me with maudlin tears the story of his declension from surgeon on a king's ship to buccaneer, and preached me many an impressive sermon on the text of the bottle.

Mistress Lucy had withdrawn while we were talking, and Sandy MacLeod, as he was named, dressed my wound again with a hand as tender as a woman's. And then Joe Punchard came down to see me, Cludde remaining on deck to keep an eye on the crew. Vetch had sprung overboard, and run fleetly as a deer to the shore, and though the negroes on the cliff sped after him with yells, they had a round of half a mile to go over rough ground, and could not catch him. I would fain have him in my power, so that he might receive his desserts at the hands of a jury, and be deprived at least of further opportunities of mischief, but my vexation at his escape was solaced by the knowledge that Mistress Lucy's safety was secure.

I talked things over with Joe, and we decided to sail the brig round the coast to Port Royal, and hand Mistress Lucy over to her friends in Spanish Town. The management of her estate gave us some concern. It could not be left without a responsible head, and the overseers, being, as I learned from her, men whom Vetch had put in when he dismissed McTavish and the other white men whom he had found there on his arrival, were scarcely to be trusted.

As the result of a consultation with Mistress Lucy, she asked Cludde (who had begged and received her forgiveness) to return to Penolver and take charge until we should have had time to reengage McTavish and send him up from Spanish Town. Mistress Lucy being now of age, Vetch's brief authority had come to an end, and I supposed that he would make his way to Dry Harbor and take ship to England. I could imagine the rage of Sir Richard when his emissary should return and report the total failure of his scheme. 'Twould sort with his violent and overbearing character to make Vetch a scapegoat (a man in the wrong must ever have someone to kick); and I wondered to what new villainy Cyrus would turn for his livelihood.

We had some trouble with the buccaneers when I told them they would be required to work the brig to Port Royal. They felt a very natural reluctance to come within reach of the merchants and shipmen who had suffered from their depredations. But I took it upon myself to promise them good pay and immunity from arrest, provided they joined a king's ship forthwith, and being seconded by Sandy MacLeod the surgeon, who had much influence with his comrades, I brought them to acquiesce. And so, having bade farewell to Cludde and the friendly negroes, Uncle Moses and Noah (Jacob would accompany me), we waited a few hours until the old nurse Patty had been sent up from the house and then we unfurled our sails to a favoring wind, and in the course of three days made the harbor of Port Royal.

During the voyage I saw almost nothing of Mistress Lucy. My wound kept me to my cabin; she did not often stir from hers, and 'twas Patty who bestowed on me the ministrations that are so pleasant to a sick man. I own I was somewhat disappointed in this matter. 'Twas nothing that Mistress Lucy had not uttered a word of thanks to me for what I had done for her (she was much more affable with Joe Punchard); her refraining spared me embarrassment, for a man of my nature is ill at ease under any demonstration of gratitude; but there were many other things we might have talked about, and the mere sight of her would have been a comfort. But, as I say, she saw me but seldom, and spoke very little, and I felt a spasm of jealousy when I learned that she spent hours on deck chatting with Punchard, who for his part, when he came to see me, spoke of her with all the adoration of a worshipper.

And when, on arriving at Port Royal, I was carried ashore, and Mistress Lucy came and took leave of me, she said nothing but a mere "Goodby, Mr. Bold," though to be sure she looked on me with wondrous kindness.

And when she was gone I could not forbear heaving a monstrous sigh at the thought that she was now a lady of great property, whereas I was but a second lieutenant, poor on eighty pounds a year.



Chapter 30: The Six Days' Battle.

My wound kept me laid up for a fortnight, and hobbling for another, so that I was unluckily prevented from accompanying my captain in a little expedition in which he gained much credit and a goodly portion of prize money. The Falmouth was sent by Admiral Benbow, with the Ruby and the Experiment, to cruise off the Petit Guavas. 'Twas the middle of May when they returned (with four prizes, one a very rich ship), and meanwhile things had happened which mitigated my disappointment.

We learned in April from Rear Admiral Whetstone, who had joined the vice admiral, of the death of King William and the accession of the Princess Anne, and knowing how much the new queen was under the influence of the Earl of Marlborough's lady, we had little doubt that England would soon be at war with France. A few days before my ship returned to port we had advice of the rupture between the two countries, and when Captain Vincent informed the admiral that Monsieur Chateau-Renaud was at the Havana, with six and twenty men-of-war, waiting for the great treasure fleet from Santa Cruz, we looked forward with lively anticipation to the imminent conflict.

And it chancing that one of the second lieutenants of the flagship was sick, Mr. Benbow with great kindness appointed me, being now perfectly recovered, to fill his room. I parted with regret from Captain Vincent, whom I esteemed a better commander than Captain Fogg, of the Breda, but I was greatly delighted at the prospect of serving under Mr. Benbow's eye, and in hardly less degree at being on the same ship as Joe Punchard, who had returned to his duty as the admiral's servant.

It was nigh two months before the vice admiral hoisted his flag and set sail. In the interim he had despatched Rear Admiral Whetstone to intercept Monsieur du Casse, who, as he was informed, was expected at Port Louis, at the west end of Hispaniola, with four men-of-war, to destroy our trade for negroes. At length sailing orders were given to the fleet, and on the evening before we departed we attended a grand entertainment given by the new governor, Brigadier General Selwyn, who had arrived towards the latter end of January.

All the important people of the colony accepted the governor's invitation, and among them was Mistress Lucy. I had seen her many times since I had recovered of my wound, and, I own, was somewhat piqued at her conduct towards me, for though always perfectly kind, she was no more cordial to me than to a score of my fellow officers. Indeed, if any one was favored more than another, it was Dick Cludde, who had, since his breach with Vetch, cast off his bad habits, and appeared to be on an excellent footing with his cousin.

I had always thought him a lubber, and the good qualities he now showed annoyed (I am ashamed to say) as much as they surprised me. 'Twas clear that he was humbly paying his court to the lady, and feeling myself debarred by my poverty from entering the lists against him, I could but stand aside and fume at his greater advantages. Lucy danced much with him at the governor's ball; she was so beset by would-be partners that when I, who had somewhat morosely hung back, approached her to ask her for a place on her card, she hummed, and pursed her lips, and said she feared I was too late, and then, with a pretty air of relenting, announced that she could give me one dance towards the end.

I was standing, gloomily watching her dance with Cludde, when I felt a tap on my arm, and saw Mistress Lucetta Gurney (whom I have before mentioned) smiling up at me from behind her fan.

"Why these black looks, Mr. Bold?" says she.

"Because you have not favored me with a dance, Mistress Lucetta," said I, with a very low bow.

"Fie, Mr. Bold," cries she, "when did you ask me?"

"I ask you now," I said, and with that I took her under my arm and strode among the dancers with so fierce and determined an air (as Mistress Lucetta told me) that, being more than common tall, I was much observed and humorously criticized by the company. I suppose I carried the same fierceness into my dancing, for after footing it for the space of a minute, Mistress Lucetta begged me to stop, saying she had no fancy for dancing with a whirlwind.

"Take me to a seat, Mr. Bold. I am going to talk to you," she said.

And talk to me she did, in a way that mightily surprised me.

"Do you think I don't see through you, Mr. Bold?" she said. "You are most desperately jealous of Mr. Cludde; you know you are; and of every other man in the room; and you show it, which is a very, very silly thing to do. Oh, don't speak; you would only tell me stories. Listen to me. Lucy is a dear friend of mine, and I know all about everything. You are a disgrace to your name, sir."

"Why, what have I done?" I asked, amazed at the sternness she had suddenly thrown into her voice. And she burst into a ripple of laughter.

"I do think you are the stupidest man alive," she said. "Is not your name Bold, and are you not timid, and backward, and humble, and despondent, and a great big baby! Why, Lucy thinks the world of you; she is never tired of hearing that red-haired man Punchard talk of you; and yet you are glum, and scowl at her, and glower at the men who are cheerful and try to amuse her, and whom she doesn't care a button for. Oh, Mr. Bold, 'tis you who ought to change your name, for to be sure you will never persuade her to change hers."

"But Dick Cludde!" I stammered, taken aback by this plain speaking.

"Is going to dance with me, sir," she said, springing up as, the dance being over, Dick came to claim her for the next.

I wandered into the governor's beautiful garden, and, pacing up and down, pondered what the lively Lucetta had said. Was it true that Lucy did not care a button for the men who courted her so assiduously? Was Lucetta seeking to make a fool of me? Did Lucy's apparent indifference mask another feeling? My thoughts made a flying circle of perplexity and I could not anywise come at a resolution.

And then I remembered again how far above me Lucy was in worldly position, and how I had nothing, barring a few hundred pounds of prize money and my paltry eighty pounds (or less) a year. What had I to offer her? And besides this, I felt a scruple (even supposing my chances were not hopeless), against seeking to engage her while she was so far from the relatives whose advice she would naturally seek. 'Twould savor much of fortune hunting, I thought, if I sought her hand so close upon her coming of age.

The upshot of my meditations was that I must cleave to my former resolve, and wait at least until I should have been promoted to captain's rank, and then seek her at her uncle's house and put my fate to the hazard.

Whether my resolution would have survived a dance with her I know not. When I went back to the hall to claim her I found I was too late: she was dancing with a young popinjay of Collingwood's regiment. I watched them gloomily, in high dudgeons, though 'twas my own fault, and I did not even get an opportunity of bidding her farewell.

Next day ('twas the eleventh of July) we sailed out of Port Royal, amid salvos of artillery, the merchant ships in the harbour being all dressed with flags. The Breda, in which I was now serving, led the van, and the squadron consisted, besides another third-rate, of six fourth-rates, a fireship, a bomb vessel, a tender and a sloop. Mr. Benbow designed to join Rear Admiral Whetstone, but we were soon spoken by the Colchester, from which we learned that Monsieur du Casse was expected at Leogane, and making for that place, we arrived on the twenty-seventh.

We saw several ships at anchor near the town, and one of them being under sail, we pursued her, and found her to be a man-of-war of fifty guns. She did not stay to try conclusions with us, but ran ashore, and then her captain, to prevent her from falling into our hands, blew her up. Next morning we had the good fortune to capture with ease three other French ships and to sink a fourth; and perceiving that a vessel of eighteen guns was being hauled inshore under the guns of the fort, the admiral sent the boat in, which burned her to the ground, and brought off some other ships with wine and stores aboard.

We came next day before Petit Guavas, and saw three or four small ships in the harbor called the Cul, which was so strong by its natural position, and so well defended, that Mr. Benbow thought it not advisable to run any risk there for vessels of little value. We continued for three days in the bay, and sailed from thence for Cape Donna Maria, on the west side of Hispaniola, where we learned that Monsieur du Casse was gone to Cartagena. 'Twas clear that the Frenchman was in no mind to encounter us, and there was a good deal of grumbling among our men at the wild goose chase on which we appeared to be engaged.

Falling in with Rear Admiral Whetstone, who had taken three ships of the enemy, Mr. Benbow despatched him back to Jamaica to look to the safety of that island, being resolved himself to cruise about until he should come in touch with the fleet of Monsieur du Casse.

On the tenth of August we left Cape Donna Maria, the Breda being accompanied by the Defiance (of which Captain Kirkby was commander, and Dick Cludde first lieutenant), the Falmouth (with my friend Captain Vincent), the Ruby, the Greenwich, the Pendennis and the Windsor. Early in the morning of the twenty-ninth we came over against the coast of Santa Martha, and espied ten ships sailing under topsails westward along the shore, and soon perceived them to be the French. Four of them were great vessels of sixty or seventy guns.

Some of our ships being three or four miles astern, Mr. Benbow flew the signal for action, and went on under easy sail so that the others might come up with us. He had disposed his line of battle with the flagship in the center, the Defiance at the extreme left, and the Falmouth at the extreme right.

On board the Breda we were all desperately eager for the fight, and I could not watch without admiration the coolness with which Mr. Benbow made his disposition, and the particular order and cheerfulness that prevailed among the men. Our consorts were long in coming up, and I observed the admiral to grow very uneasy as he watched them through his perspective glass. He bit his lips, and frowned, and at last broke out into indignant speech, especially against the Defiance and the Windsor, which were making but little haste to come into their stations.

He was ever a man of quick temper, and his habit of speaking his mind freely accounted in some measure for his unpopularity with some of his captains. But to my mind he was fully justified in the bitterness with which he now spoke of Captain Kirkby of the Defiance and Captain Constable of the Windsor. Evening was drawing on, and though the enemy was stronger than we, both in numbers and armament, Mr. Benbow made no doubt we should give a good account of ourselves if only the captains would loyally support him.

At length, to bring on an engagement before night, the admiral ran alongside of the enemy, being to windward, and steering large, not intending to attack before the Defiance was abreast of the headmost ship. But before this was done the Falmouth opened the fight by firing on a great Dutch-built ship in the rear, and the Windsor and the Defiance immediately did likewise, though they had not arrived at the appointed stations. Cursing with vexation at this violation of orders, the admiral saw himself forced to open fire upon the nearest French ship, which had already given us a harmless broadside.

And then to our amazement we saw the Defiance and the Windsor, though they had received but two or three broadsides apiece (in one of which Dick Cludde got a severe hurt) luff out of gunshot, so that the two sternmost ships of the French were free to lay upon the Breda. I think I never saw a man in such a passion of anger as Mr. Benbow was then. He mingled hot reproaches of the erring captains with words of cheer to our gunners, and though we were the target for three of the enemy's ships, he bade Captain Fogg keep us in touch with them and swore that he would fight the whole squadron single-handed.

'Twas four o'clock before the action became general, so sluggish were our vessels in coming into line, and the firing continued till nightfall, by which time we on the Breda had suffered severely. We kept the French company all night, and during the night watches the admiral, believing that if he led himself on both tacks the captains for very shame could not fail to follow his example, altered the line of battle accordingly, the Defiance coming next to the Breda. At daybreak the Breda was near the enemy, but only the Ruby was up with us, the rest of the squadron lying three, four, and five miles astern, and there was little wind. We were within gunshot of the French, but they were civil enough not to fire, and indeed 'twas clear as the day went on that they were not eager to fight us, for on a sea breeze coming up they got into a line and made what sail they could.

One ship set off with the Ruby in pursuit, plying our chase guns on them till night; but the other ships again delayed to come up with us, and we were left to keep the enemy company.

Next morning at daylight we found ourselves on the quarter of the second ship of the enemy's squadron, within point-blank shot, the Ruby being ahead of us. The French ships fired at the Ruby, which returned their fire; and the two French vessels which were ahead fell off, and there being little wind, brought their guns to bear on our consort. Mr. Benbow gave orders that we should send our broadside upon the ship that first began, which our gunners did with such right good will that they brought her masts and rigging tumbling down, and shattered her so that she had to lower her boats to tow her away. But the Ruby had suffered in no less a degree, and the admiral ordered Captain Fogg to lay by her and send his boats to tow her off.

This action had lasted for nigh two hours, during which the Defiance and Windsor had come abreast of the rear French ship and though within point-blank range had never fired one gun at her. The admiral ground his teeth and swore he would court martial the captains when we came to port. Meanwhile a gale had sprung up, and the enemy again made all sail, and we set off in chase. At two in the afternoon we got abreast of two of the stern-most of the enemy's ships off the mouth of the Rio Grande, and in hopes to disable them in their masts and rigging we began to fire on them, as did some of our vessels astern; but the Frenchmen, seeing the Breda so ill supported, paid no heed to any other, but pointed wholly at us, doing much hurt to our rigging, and maiming some of our men.

After the fight had continued upwards of two hours, the Frenchmen drew off out of gunshot, and we made what sail we could after them, but they used all possible shifts to evade fighting, our men shouting after them derisively as cowardly curs. Darkness put a stop to the pursuit, but again we hugged the enemy all night, hoping that next day would see the conclusion of this long-drawn battle.

When the third morning dawned, we spied the enemy about a mile and a half ahead. Of our ships the half-crippled Ruby was nearest, the Falmouth next; the rest were but indifferently near, the Greenwich indeed lying full three leagues astern, though the admiral had never struck his signal for battle night or day.

For many hours the wind blew easterly, but at three in the afternoon it shifted to the south and gave the enemy the weather gauge. In tacking we fetched within gunshot of the sternmost of them, and for half an hour or so we kept up a brisk bombardment; but our line was still much out of order, and some of our ships being even now three miles astern, nothing more could be done.

And so another day passed. The other vessels had not come within speaking distance of us, and it seemed that all hope of bringing the enemy to a decisive engagement must be abandoned.

The dawn of the fourth morning found the Frenchmen six miles ahead, and one less in number, for the great Dutch ship had separated from the squadron and was out of sight. The Defiance and Windsor, ever the most dilatory of our vessels, were at this time four miles astern. About ten o'clock, the wind then blowing east nor'-east, but very variable, the enemy tacked, and the admiral fetched within range of two of them, giving them his broadside and receiving from them many shrewd knocks. Then, tacking also, he pursued them with what speed he might, and about noon contrived to cut off from their line a small English ship, the Ann galley, which they had taken off Lisbon.

This small success cheered our drooping spirits a little; but a complete victory seemed further off than ever, for the Ruby proved to be so disabled that the admiral ordered her to return to Port Royal, so that we had five ships against the enemy's nine. During the day our vessels drew somewhat closer to us, the Falmouth being the foremost, and we gained some four miles upon the enemy by sunset.

Ever since we had first sighted the Frenchmen, Mr. Benbow had snatched but a few hours' sleep each night, and was becoming worn out for want of rest and for bitter mortification at the ill conduct of his captains. 'Tis true the enemy had shown no disposition to stand, and the light winds had not favored the overhauling of them, and I was very sure that in the case of Captain Vincent, at any rate, 'twas sheer ill luck that prevented him from giving the admiral support. But I had other ideas of the behavior of the captains of the vessels that hung back most. Captain Kirkby of the Defiance and Captain Wade of the Greenwich I knew to be of the anti-Benbow party, and though I had not the same knowledge of Captain Constable of the Windsor and Captain Hudson of the Pendennis, I suspected that they were infected by the same blight, for I could not believe that officers of the English navy could be arrant cowards.

On the night of the twenty-fourth I had the middle watch. Towards two o'clock Joe Punchard came to me, smoking a pipe, and looking more miserable than I had ever seen him.

"Twill break my captain's heart if we have another day of it," he says gloomily. "He looks five years older than he did when we left Port Royal. He can't sleep, and if he do fall into a doze he starts up like a child out of a bad dream. He swears he will court martial the captains, every man jack of them, when we get to port, but that won't win us the battle, and he has set his heart on giving the Frenchmen a drubbing. And he's took a notion that he'll never get through alive, which is so uncommon unlike him, being mostly so cheery, that it gives me the dumps bad."

I was saying what I could to cheer the good fellow when the lookout cries he sees a sail ahead. The admiral rushes out of his cabin and orders the drums to beat to quarters. In an instant, as it seemed, the decks were full of men. 'Twas a clear night, with very little wind, and we could see one of the French ships within hail of us. We gave her a tremendous broadside from all three decks at once, with double shot, round below, and round and partridge aloft. She returned it hotly, striking down many of our good fellows; I myself narrowly escaped one of the shot, which hit a man at my side, carrying away his right arm clear from the shoulder.

We kept up the duel of firing for near an hour, and then I heard a great cry go up that the admiral was wounded, and by and by Joe comes to me with tears streaming down his cheeks, and says that the admiral's right leg was shattered to pieces by a chain shot, and he was carried below. But while he was still talking to me we heard a great shout and there was Mr. Benbow being hoisted in his cradle on to the quarterdeck, and crying out "Good cheer, my hearties! The Frenchmen have given me a knock, but we've got 'em now and by God! we'll beat 'em!"

And then they cheered him again, and he, sitting in his cradle, making nothing of his dreadful pain, gave orders and shouted encouragement for a good three hours.

When the morning light showed us the ship we had been fighting, she appeared a mere ruin; her main yard down and shot to pieces, her fore-topsail yard shot away, her mizzen mast by the board, all her rigging gone, and her sides bored through and through with our double-headed shot. And near by us stood my old ship the Falmouth, which in the darkness had assisted us very much in crippling this great vessel of seventy guns, the sternmost of the French squadron.

Soon afterwards we saw the other ships of the enemy bearing down upon us before a strong easterly wind; at the same time the Windsor, Pendennis and Greenwich, ahead of the enemy, ran to leeward of the disabled ship, gave her their broadsides ('twas like flogging a dead horse), and then stood to the southward. Whereupon up comes the Defiance, and passes like the others; and while we were still in our amazement at this sudden bravery, the battered ship fired twenty of her guns at the Defiance, whereupon she ports her helm a-weather and runs away right before the wind, lowering both her topsails without any regard to the signal for battle.

This was more than our men could stomach; breaking all discipline, they pursued the coward ship with groans and curses. I glanced at the admiral, sitting erect on the quarter deck, and his pale face was drawn with a look of utter despair.

The enemy, seeing our other two ships stand to the southward, clearly expected them to tack, for they brought to with their heads to the northward, preparing to meet their fire. But when they perceived that our dastard captains had no such intent, but were beyond doubt running away, they bore down upon the Breda and ran between us and the disabled ship, firing all their guns, shooting away our main-topsail yard, and shattering our rigging.

"For God's sake, Mr. Fogg," cried the admiral, "fire a couple of shots at those villains ahead and mind them of their duty!"

This the captain did, but the others took not the least notice of his signal. He stamped and swore like a madman, and I went hot with shame to think of what opinion the Frenchmen must have of us. And with our rigging all shot away we had to lay by and look at them as they brought to, remanned their own shattered ship, and took her in tow. Sure never did English admiral before or since suffer such undeserved humiliation.

Our men set to work diligently to refit the vessel, and this being done by ten o'clock, Mr. Benbow ordered the captain to pursue the enemy, who was then about three miles distant, and to leeward, having the disabled ship in tow, and steering northeast, the wind being sou'-sou'west. We made all the sail we could, the battle signal always flying at the fore; and the enemy, taking encouragement from the behavior of some of our captains, now showed the first signs of waiting for us. Whereupon the admiral ordered Captain Fogg to send to the other captains and bid them keep their line and behave themselves like men.

And when our boat returned from this errand there was Captain Kirkby in it. He came aboard the Breda and went up to the admiral, who never left the quarterdeck. There were high words between them; I learned afterwards that Captain Kirkby pressed Mr. Benbow very earnestly to desist from any further engagement, alleging that he had tried the enemy's strength with little success for six days together.

"And whose fault is that, sir?" roared the admiral.

Then, with difficulty curbing his anger, he bade Captain Fogg signal to the other captains to come aboard, so that he might know whether they were all of the same mind as that craven.

They obeyed this signal with wondrous alacrity. They came aboard, and for two mortal hours the admiral, racked and almost fainting with pain, reasoned, expostulated, pleaded, showed them that now they had the fairest opportunity of success, seeing that our ships were all in good condition, and only eight men killed in all the squadron save those the Breda had lost; that we had plenty of ammunition; that three or four of the enemy's ships had suffered injury and one was quite disabled and in tow. 'Twas all in vain. The most of them concurred with Captain Kirkby's opinion, that it was undesirable to continue the fight, nor could any reasoning turn them. And then they put their names to a paper, formally giving their opinion, and (though I did not know this till afterwards) Captain Fogg and my own old commander, Captain Vincent, signed with the rest.

After this there was no more to be done. If the admiral had been unwounded I believe he would have stood out against them all and fought the enemy single-handed: but he had no assurance of being in a fit state to direct the battle; 'twas clear the captains had no mind to fight; and rather than imperil the whole squadron and let the French boast of a victory he resolved to venture no further. And so we let the enemy depart unmolested, and returned to Jamaica.

On the way I had the privilege of some talk with the admiral. Deeply mortified as he was at his own ill success, his personal grief was outweighed by his sense of the national disappointment which must attend the frustration of his design.

"And 'tis my last fight, Bold," he said to me. "I shall not live to meet the French again, and 'tis a sore trial to me to go out of the world a failure."

"You are not a failure, sir," I said. "'Tis those rascally captains who have failed and are disgraced forever; and be sure our people will do you justice."

"You think so?" he said, with a pleased look. "'Twas King William that called me 'honest Benbow,' and if I keep that name with the country I am content. I may die before we make Port Royal; if I do, you will take my love to Nelly, my lad?"

"I will indeed, sir, but I hope for better things," I said. "There be good surgeons in Spanish Town, who will use all of their skill to preserve a life so valuable to the country."

"We shall see," he replied. "This plaguey leg will have to come off; maybe I shall return home with a wooden leg and stump about as port admiral somewhere!

"At any rate, I hope I shall live long enough to see you a captain. You have done well, my lad, and there will be a few vacancies, I warrant you, when the court martial has done with those villains."

Before we reached Port Royal a French boat overtook us with a letter to the admiral from Monsieur du Casse, who, being a brave man, felt for the distress of his brave foe.

"Sir" (he wrote), "I had little hope on Monday last but to have supped in your cabin, but it pleased God to order it otherwise; I am thankful for it. As for those cowardly captains who deserted you, hang them up, for by God, they deserve it."

Our return to harbor was a melancholy affair. There was universal rage against the unworthy captains, and universal grief at the plight of the admiral. His broken leg was taken off, an operation which he bore with wonderful fortitude, and being of a robust constitution, he gave the surgeons at first good hopes of recovery. From his sick bed he issued a commission to Rear Admiral Whetstone to hold a court martial for the trial of the four captains whom he accused of cowardice, breach of order, and neglect of duty; and of Captains Fogg and Vincent on the minor charge of signing the paper against engaging the French.

The trial began on the eighth of October. Among the officers who gave evidence (much against his will) against Captain Kirkby was Dick Cludde, who was carried wounded before the court. Kirkby and Captain Wade of the Greenwich were found guilty on all the charges and sentenced to be shot. Captain Constable was cleared of cowardice, but convicted on the other counts, and he was cashiered from her Majesty's service, with imprisonment during her pleasure. Captain Hudson of the Pendennis was lucky, as I thought, in dying before the trial which must have branded him with indelible disgrace.

As for my old friend Captain Vincent, and my new commander, Captain Fogg, they alleged in their defense that they had signed the paper only because they feared if we engaged the enemy, that the other captains would wholly desert and leave the Breda and the Falmouth to their fate; and Mr. Benbow himself testifying to their great courage and gallant behavior in the battle, the court was satisfied with suspending them from their employment in the queen's service. The sentences were not executed at once, it being decided that the officers (except Vincent and Fogg) should be carried to England to await the pleasure of the queen's consort, Prince George of Denmark, who as Lord High Admiral had the power to ratify or quash the decrees of the court martial.

I was not myself present at the trial of these officers. On arriving in the harbor, the admiral was informed that, taking advantage of his absence, a buccaneer vessel had appeared off the north coast, and was doing much damage among the merchant shipping. Many planters who had suffered in their property had sent requests to the governor to take immediate action against the buccaneers, which he was unable to do until Mr. Benbow's return, Rear Admiral Whetstone not thinking himself justified in diminishing his own squadron with risk to the general safety of the island.

But on the day before the court martial was to meet Mr. Benbow sent for me, and ordered me to cruise along the north shore in search of the pirate vessel. He did not give me a ship of war for this purpose, thinking that this would only serve to warn the buccaneers, who no doubt had spies in the principal ports. But the brig in which we had brought Mistress Lucy being still in the harbor, the admiral instructed me to fit her out as a trader, and send her to sea with a dummy captain and a skeleton crew, and then to join her secretly with some thirty picked men from the queen's ships.

This mark of his confidence gave me very great pleasure, and I set about my preparations with zeal, being busy with them during the days of the trial. Knowing how strongly attached I was to Joe Punchard, Mr. Benbow insisted that he should accompany me, declaring with only too much truth that he himself had little need of Punchard's services while he was fixed to his bed.

I had, of course, paid a visit to Mistress Lucy immediately on reaching port. She took me very severely to task for leaving the port without a word of farewell, and seemed to find it a demerit in me that I had returned without a wound, praising Dick Cludde very warmly for the part he had taken in the fight. I answered with some heat that if I was not wounded 'twas from no shirking of duty, and I would have desired nothing better than that we should board one of the French vessels; 'twas no pleasure for a man to stand idle on deck while guns were shot off. And being now wrought to a certain degree of anger, I reminded her that I had given proof that I was no coward, and hoped the queen would not show herself so ungrateful to those who served her well as some other ladies I could name.

This outburst (foreign to my wonted mildness of temper) brought a color to her cheeks and a gleam to her eyes, and in quite a changed voice she said:

"Indeed, and I am not ungrateful, Mr. Bold."

And then I craved her pardon (for which, as I learned, Mistress Lucetta Gurney called me a fool), and inquired how her own affairs were prospering.

Mr. McTavish, she told me, had gone back to her estate as steward, she heard from him every week, and he gave excellent reports of the plantations. I asked her whether anything had been heard of Vetch, and whether any vessel conveying her produce from Dry Harbor had been molested by the buccaneers. She said she had no news of either the one or the other, and I inclined to believe that Vetch had accepted his defeat and vanished out of her life for ever. When I told her of the commission intrusted to me by Mr. Benbow she looked a little troubled, and besought me to have a care of myself—a departure from her former indifference that surprised me. I could only answer that I would not court danger, and that as for taking care of myself I must do my duty and leave the rest to Providence.

Long afterwards I learned that she sent privately for Joe Punchard, and extorted from him a solemn promise that he would watch over me day and night, see that I did not take a chill or expose myself to danger, and bring me back unscathed, on pain of her lasting displeasure.

"I had to promise," said Joe when I taxed him with it. "I couldn't help it. I would ha' sworn black was white, the mistress have got that way with her. Thinks I to myself, 'Mr. Bold beant a baby, nor I beant a nurse; but I'll commit black perjury to make her happy,' and so I would, sir."

And having taken my leave of her, and of Mr. Benbow, and Cludde, and other my friends, I left the harbor in a boat at sunset on October twelfth and joined the brig off Bull Bay, where she had lain awaiting me.



Chapter 31: The Cockpit.

The brig, whose name was the Tartar (a very fitting name for one that had been a privateer) was manned with thirty able seamen whom I had myself been permitted to pick from the man-of-war's men in the harbor. As lieutenant I had a quartermaster named Fincham, a very excellent officer. We sailed with a fair wind until we reached Port Antonio on the northeast side of the island, but then the wind fell contrary, and we had to beat up along the north coast at a creeping pace that vexed me sorely.

We did not expect to have any news of the buccaneers until we had fetched past Orange Bay, but from thence onwards I knew that we should have to search every inlet save those that had an anchorage for large vessels; and our slow progress was the more vexing because I feared that the buccaneers might get wind of Mr. Benbow's return and sheer off. I hoped they would not do this, for I was burning to justify the admiral's confidence in me by bringing the pirate craft into harbor.

One morning, when we had been a week at sea, we sighted a wreck on a small island off Blowing Point; the islet has since totally disappeared in one of the volcanic disturbances that afflict those latitudes. We drew in towards the derelict, and then spied a man on deck waving his shirt very energetically to attract our notice. I sent Fincham with a boat's crew to bring him off, and learned from him when he came aboard that he was the sole survivor of the barque Susan Maria, which was set upon a week before by a buccaneer vessel and carried to this islet, where she had been plundered and burned, many of her crew being killed, the rest taken away to be sold to the Spanish planters in Hispaniola. The man had been left for dead on the deck, but he had come out of his swoon, and had since supported himself on some moldy cheese and biscuits which the buccaneers had not deemed worth taking when they stripped the vessel.

He told me that the buccaneer vessel was a light brig carrying six guns and a crew of at least sixty men of all nations, her captain being a Frenchman. She had sailed away to the westward. I had little doubt that this was the very vessel I had been sent in search of, and though she was stronger than I supposed, I was hot set to find her and see for myself whether we might not attempt to put a stop to her mischievous career.

We lay becalmed for the rest of that day, but a light easterly breeze springing up towards morning, we clapped on all sail and worked steadily along the coast. I examined the chart very carefully for likely anchorages, and used my perspective glass constantly; but we saw no sign of the pirate, nor indeed of any vessel, all that day.

Towards dusk we approached the entrance of the cove whence I had sailed the brig of which I was now in command. We heaved to behind a headland about two miles to the east of it, out of view of any vessel which might be in the cove or at the mouth, and waited for darkness. I had no reason to suppose that the pirate lay within the cove, though 'twas likely enough; but it behooved us to go as cautiously as if we knew she was there for certain. Considering her strength, if it should come to a fight, 'twas clearly good tactics to choose my own time and manner of attacking her.

About the end of the second dog watch I lowered a boat, and with Joe Punchard and half a dozen picked men, together with the sailor we had rescued, set off with muffled oars up the cove to reconnoiter, leaving Fincham in charge of the brig. The moon was rising, but there was a deep shadow beneath the cliffs, and by keeping well within this I trusted to escape observation. The cove was about two miles long, and after rowing half the distance I caught sight of a dark shape before me, as nearly as I could judge, almost at the same spot as my brig when I cut her cable. We drew a little closer, till we could see every spar clear in the moonlight, and the man of the Susan Maria told me that the vessel was beyond doubt the pirate of which we were in search. We lay on our oars for a while watching her, and listening for sounds from her deck, but hearing nothing, and judging that her captain would feel perfectly secure, I thought that all things favored an attempt to cut her out that night.

We pulled back to the brig and immediately prepared two boats for the expedition. I selected twenty-four men for the job, leaving ten to guard the brig. 'Twas a question whether Fincham or Punchard should be placed in charge of the second boat, but Joe pleaded so hard to have a hand in the venture (animated as much by his love of action as by his promise to Mistress Lucy, of which I as yet knew nothing) that I decided to leave Fincham in command of the vessel. If the buccaneers numbered sixty, as I had been told, we had heavy odds against us; but with the advantage of surprise I hoped that our twenty-four picked men would prove equal to more than twice their number of a mixed lot who had nothing but their common crimes to hind them together.

'Twas about four in the morning, under a waning moon, when we again came within sight of the enemy's vessel. We rowed dead slow in order to avoid noise, and had come within half a cable's length of her, and I was on the point of ordering my men to give way for a dash, when I was surprised to hear voices from the deck, and the creaking of davit blocks. 'Twas clear the buccaneers were letting down a boat. I whispered my men to ship oars, and waited with no little anxiety.

Had our approach been discovered? I could not think so, for the most confident enemy would scarcely throw away their advantage of position by seeking us out under the shadow of the cliffs when they might securely await our attack and surprise us in turn. Then what could they be about? I could just see the boat as it was lowered over the side, and then immediately afterwards a second boat followed, and men crowded into both and pulled away for the shore. They came full into the moon's rays, I saw them land, cross the beach, and disappear.

My first thought was that the vessel was delivered into our hands. I reckoned that the boats had carried close on forty men; those who were left would be no match for my tars; it seemed that my task was made miraculously easy. But then, reflecting that the buccaneers must have some errand on shore, it flashed upon me that their destination was Penolver, and their object to plunder the house and estate. There could be no other explanation of their quitting their vessel at this dead time of night.

And here I felt a conflict between duty and inclination. The latter prompted me to make off at once after the landing party and do what might be done to save Lucy's property. But my orders were to deal with the buccaneers, and I felt that I should not be justified in interfering on behalf of a private person, however dear to me, until my first duty was fulfilled.

It was a question then whether I should first attack the ship or capture the boats on the strand. To accomplish the latter we should have to overpower the men who had no doubt been left in charge, and there would certainly be some noise that would alarm the men on board the vessel, so that although the possession of the boats would cut off the return of those who had landed, it would also make the capture of the brig far more difficult. On all grounds it seemed better to wait until the landing party had gone too far to return in time to help their comrades, and then cut out the ship. When that was in our hands I should be free to go ashore and set off in pursuit of the ruffians who, I was convinced, were marching for Lucy's house.

Ordering my men to put me alongside Punchard's boat, I arranged with him the manner of our attack. I would make for the larboard, he for the starboard side, and we would board as nearly as possible at the same moment. This being settled I whispered the word to go, and the two boats crept along the shore in shadow as silently as we could until we came directly opposite the enemy's vessel. Then I, having the tiller of the leading boat, brought her round and steered her straight for the ship. 'Twas scarce to be hoped, in spite of our muffled oars, that our approach should be wholly unheard; and we were no more than ten fathoms distant when the alarm was given. There was not sufficient way on the boat, the tide being between flood and ebb, to bring us quite to the vessel, but after a few more strokes I ordered the men to ship oars and seize their arms, and we came under the brig's counter just in time to escape a volley from the deck.

We swarmed up, half a 'dozen of us together, the men shouting and cursing as Jack tars will, and met with a very warm reception. The enemy was assembled in full force to beat us back, the watch below having had time to tumble up, though to be sure they were half dazed with sleep, and maybe drink. If they had been wide-awake I will not answer for it that we should not have been repulsed; even as it was, several of my crew were driven headlong back into the boat and the sea. But the rest gained a footing on deck, and I warrant you they kept it. We were at too close quarters to fire; 'twas a brief hand-to-hand encounter with cutlasses and clubbed muskets, and what with the clashing of the weapons and the cries of the men we made a great din and hurly burly.

But the enemy had lost their sole chance of success when they failed to dislodge us before Joe's men arrived. 'Twas but a minute before his boat came round the bows to the starboard side, and then the crew swarmed up, with Joe at their head, and fell upon the rear of our assailants. Thus hemmed in between our two parties the buccaneers saw 'twas vain to contend longer. They flung down their arms and cried (in many tongues) for quarter; and within five minutes of our first setting foot on deck we had them securely battened down below.

And now having accomplished, by fortune's favor, my first duty, I resolved to make all speed after the fellows who had landed, hoping fervently that the noise of our engagement had not reached their ears and put them on their guard. There was hot work before us, I well knew, if they numbered forty, as I had reason to believe. I could not leave the brig wholly unguarded; yet I was loath to diminish my own little company; in the end I decided to leave a boatswain's mate in command of a party of five (three who had had a ducking and two who had received slight hurts in the fight) and to take Joe and the other eighteen hot-foot to Penolver.

I had left instructions with Fincham on our brig to sail into the inlet in the morning to support us, and I told the boatswain's mate to communicate with her as soon as she appeared. Thus I had no anxiety about the security of the prize and the prisoners during my absence.

These arrangements made, we set off for the shore, taking two of the six men to row back to the brig the boats from which the buccaneers had landed, which we found hauled up on the beach, but no one in charge of them. Either they had been left unattended because the leader had no fears for their safety, or the men set to watch had taken alarm from our doings on the brig and had decamped. I hoped they had not gone ahead of us to warn their fellows, which indeed did not seem very likely, for they would be loath to venture alone into a strange country. If the buccaneers had had warning of what was happening behind them and hastened back, or if we should miss them and they returned to the cove before us, they would at any rate be unable to recapture their vessel, lacking their boats.

I reckoned that 'twas near two hours since the main body of the buccaneers had departed; by this time they must be three parts of the way to the house, if that was their goal; so we set off at a great pace to follow them up. The sun was not yet risen, though the darkness was lifting; and the air being cool, we could march without discomfort.

We had not gone very far, and had come to where the track runs between thin clumps of trees, when Joe Punchard suddenly left my side and darted into the woodland. His bandiness was no check upon his running. In a few seconds he was back, shoving before him a seaman much larger than himself, having one hand upon his neck and the other grasping his arm behind his back. He thus propelled the man towards us at a quick trot, crying out to me:

"Here be one of the villains, sir, and I reckon 'twill be well to make him speak."

Without slackening our pace I made the captive walk by my side and questioned him. He had been left, as I suspected, in charge of the boats, alone, and at the noise of our assault he had run up the path, intending to overtake his comrades and give them warning of what was happening. But being out of his element, his heart failed him when he came into the wild wooded country, and he had been skulking behind the trees when Joe espied him. He was a Frenchman.

I learned from him that some weeks before, his vessel had been joined by an Englishman, who had proposed to his captain an expedition to an estate some ten miles inland. The captain had been at first reluctant to undertake the expedition; 'twas work for landsmen, he said, not for sea dogs, and having heard rumors of a buccaneer brig having been captured in that very cove by a horde of negroes led by a white man, he was loath to leave his vessel. But the Englishman had worked upon his fellow countrymen among the buccaneers by tales of large sums of money lying in the house in question; he had been steward of the estate, he said, and had been forced to leave behind the hoard he had gathered, on being attacked by a villainous enemy that coveted his wealth. But it was too securely hidden to have been discovered by the interloper.

These compatriots of his had insisted on the captain holding a council of the whole crew, at which the proposal was put to the vote and carried; and the captain's last objections were overcome by the promise of a quarter of the hidden money, the Englishman to have a quarter, and the remainder to be divided among the crew.

My suspicion being so fully borne out, I forced the pace, for though I foresaw a tough fight, my men were all sturdy fellows, who were not like to feel any distress after a march of but ten miles. I only half believed the story of hidden gold. The produce of the estate would generally, I thought, be paid for, not in specie, but in bills of exchange, which would be in the hands of duly appointed agents at the port. It seemed more likely that Vetch had some other motive: what, I could not guess. But whatever his design might be, I counted myself very lucky in having come to the neighborhood in time to frustrate it.

When we came within a mile of the estate we saw a dense cloud of smoke rising into the air at the spot where, as I judged, the house stood. This seemed to confirm my suspicion; Vetch was indulging his venomous spite by burning the residence of Mistress Lucy. We sprang forward at the double, and coming in sight of the house, I saw with relief that it was yet intact, the smoke arising from the outbuildings, which were already almost burned to the ground. Then we heard musket shots, and as we drew nearer loud shouts. The plantations were utterly deserted, there was not a negro visible of whom we might ask what was toward; so we skirmished forward to a place among the trees where the front of the house was in full view.

The veranda was packed with men, and around them smoke was swirling, but the smoke of musketry, not of a conflagration. Some were firing at the shuttered windows, others hacking with axes at the doors and walls. 'Twas clear that the attack had only just begun, for the light timbers of the house could not long have withstood the tremendous battering they were now receiving. It amazed me that the assailants had met with any resistance at all; McTavish and his overseers must be men of mettle to attempt to hold the house against such odds. Even in the few seconds I allowed myself to observe them I saw two or three of the buccaneers fall, shot, I had no doubt, by the defenders within. But mingled with the yells of rage there now arose a cry of triumph; a panel of one of the doors had given way under the fierce strokes of an ax wielded by a man whom I knew by some instinct to be the captain. 'Twas manifest that we had come but just in time.

Calling to my men to follow me closely, I led them at the double straight across the open grassy space that separated us from the house. The buccaneers were so intent upon their work, and the noise was so deafening, that they were not aware of us until we came within a few yards of the veranda. Then a great shout of warning was raised by those of the men who, having been wounded, had fallen out of the fight. Some of the storming party swung round, caught sight of us, and rushed to the head of the steps leading to the veranda as we reached the foot. Luckily for us they had discharged their muskets, whereas my men had theirs loaded, and had lit their matches during the few moments we had waited at the edge of the copse.

Knowing ourselves outnumbered by at least two to one, I cried to my men to halt and fire. Several of the foremost of the buccaneers fell, but those behind had not been hit, and when I gave the order to rush up the steps they stood in close array with clubbed muskets to meet us.

The next few moments were filled with such a wild commotion that 'twould be vain to try to describe all that happened. Joe Punchard, seeing that it was impossible for all of us to mount by the steps, had with great readiness of wit called off half a dozen men, and they were now scrambling up the pillars supporting the veranda. Finding my ascent blocked by the crowd, I slipped over the balustrade, and, taking advantage of my great height, leapt at the rail of the veranda and began to haul myself up.

At that desperate moment I saw one of the buccaneers with his musket uplifted, preparing to bring it down with crushing force upon me, and caught sight of Vetch behind him sword in hand. I thought my end was come, for I had not yet secured my footing, and was powerless to protect myself. But suddenly there was a deafening report from the room beyond; the buccaneer pitched forward on to the rail, his musket falling from his hand. My life was saved by the man's body lurching against me, for being between Vetch and me, he prevented my old enemy from using his sword arm.

With a desperate heave I threw the buccaneer against Vetch, and in a trice was over the rail and on the veranda. Vetch's face was fixed with terror, as, drawing my sword, I rushed at him. There was no escape for him now; his slipperiness could not serve him; and I will do him this justice, that, finding himself driven into a corner, he stood against me and fought with a courage of frenzy. But he was no swordsman; with a few simple passes I disarmed him, and flinging his sword over the rail I caught him by the neck and arm and held him fast.

Meanwhile the resistance of his hirelings had been broken. My sturdy men had forced their way up the steps or climbed up the pillars, not without loss, and the defenders in the room behind firing a succession of shots, the buccaneers had scattered to right and left to escape being taken in front and rear at once. Their ranks being thus weakened my men pressed upon them with redoubled vehemence. I caught sight of Joe Punchard in the melee, his red head a flaming battle signal, wielding an iron belaying pin, every swing of it leaving the enemy one man the less.

The buccaneer captain, with the furious courage for which the West Indian freebooters have ever been notable, threw himself wherever the fight was thickest, striving to stay the rout, with cutlass in one hand and pistol in the other. He hurled his pistol at Joe, but he saw the movement and nimbly ducked, to the discomfiture of the man behind him, who received the weapon full in his chest (Joe being short) and staggered back in a heap against the rail. Joe was erect again in time to catch the captain's cutlass on his belaying pin, which it struck with such force as to be shivered to splinters. Ere the captain had time to spring back, a half swing from Joe's formidable weapon caught him on the neck, and he fell like a bullock under the pole ax.

This was the signal for a general stampede. With their leader gone the buccaneers could not rally, and every man sought how best to save his skin. Some tumbled down the steps, others swung themselves over the rail and dropped to the ground, and as they rushed this way and that to find safety, they were pursued not merely by my men, but by crowds of yelling negroes, who had emerged from their concealment with wondrous rapidity when they saw the tide of battle turn against the buccaneers, and were now ready enough to join in the shouting.

The veranda being clear of the enemy, the half-battered door was thrown open, and to my amazement Dick Cludde came towards me with Mr. McTavish, three overseers, Uncle Moses, and Noah, all with smoking muskets in their hands. A bare word of greeting passed between us, for Noah, seeing Vetch helpless in my grasp, sprang forward with a shout of savage joy and but for my intervention would have plunged his knife into the wretched man. Fending him off, I pushed Vetch into the room, and shut the door, keeping out all but McTavish and Cludde.

Vetch was pale and discomposed, his lips twitching, his eyes ranging restlessly between Cludde and me. I felt no pity for him.

"This man," I said to McTavish, "led his ruffians here under promise of a share in a large sum of money they would find. Is there any truth in it?"

"There is no that much money here at this present time," replied McTavish, "but when I came back to the estate a while ago and looked into matters, I couldna just make out where two thousand pounds had gone. 'Twas in specie, too, for I happened to know that the coin had been sent up from Spanish Town—a verra large sum to keep in an up-country house."

"Where is that money?" I asked, turning to Vetch.

He was more composed now, and his wonted look of alertness had returned.

"Let me understand," says Vetch. "You accuse me of—"

"Of appropriating money that did not belong to you," I said, filling up his pause.

"A serious accusation," he said, drawing his brows together. "And when did this appropriation take place?"

"We are not playing a game," I said impatiently. "Where is the money which you stole, and which you used as a lure for your ruffians?"

"We are not playing a game, as you say," he replied, becoming more and more collected as I waxed hotter. "You accuse me of stealing, I answer, when did I steal, and what are your proofs?"

"You heard what Mr. McTavish said," I replied, with difficulty curbing my anger. "Two thousand pounds are not accounted for; you were here when the money was received; it disappeared during the time you held Mr. McTavish's place; you bring your desperadoes here to secure it. 'Tis useless fencing with us."

"During the time I held Mr. McTavish's place," he repeated musingly. "That was for several months last year, until the day when the owner of this property came of age—the day when Mr. Humphrey Bold by trickery gained access to this house and threatened my life. Has it gone from your recollection that I held Mr. McTavish's place in right of a power of attorney from the legal guardian of the estate, and that whatever I may have done I was empowered to do? Does it not occur to you that the money you charge me with stealing was appropriated to the payment of the men whom I felt impelled to engage for the defense of this property against the unlawful designs of Mr. Humphrey Bold?

"You will bear me out, Mr. Cludde, when I remind you that the owner of the estate had fled from her lawfully-appointed guardian, aided and abetted in her flight, I doubt not, by this upstart himself. I am ready to account for my administration of the property to Sir Richard Cludde, and to no one else, and I say you have no right to call in question anything I may have done in his name."

The fellow's impudence fairly took my breath away. For some moments I could do nothing but look at him, and he returned my gaze without blinking, the old sneer playing about his lips. The brazen coolness with which he ignored his recent attack on the house and sought to put me in the wrong filled me with sheer amazement. I began to wonder again whether, after all, the tale he had told to the buccaneers was a lie, and he had come back to the house with no further design than to wreak his spite upon it.

And yet this could hardly be, for he could easily have set fire to it, and then the question flashed upon my mind suddenly, why had he pressed home the attack on this particular room, when all the rest of the house lay open to him? Did not that point to the probability that the money he had spoken of was actually here, in this room?

'Twas vain to bandy more words with the fellow. I called in Joe Punchard and one of my seamen, and bade them take him to the kitchen and tie him up. He flushed and bit his lip when I gave this order, but he saw 'twas folly to resist. When he had gone I told the others what I had been thinking, and suggested that we should search the room. A bureau stood against the wall; this was the only article of furniture in which money could be secured, and Mr. McTavish, who used it constantly, assured me that there was but a small sum in one of its drawers, which he had himself placed there.

We looked around in perplexity. The walls were of wood, not of lath and plaster, so that there were no nooks and crannies in which he could have bestowed his hoard. The floor also was of single planking, forming the roof of the room below. There seemed no possible place of concealment here. Could there be any spot on the veranda that might have served his purpose?

I went out; the veranda was empty, the men who had been injured (and some who were dead) having been removed. If my reasoning was correct, the hiding place must be on the inner side, otherwise the assailants could have obtained what they came to seek without attacking the room. We looked carefully along the base of the wall where it met the floor of the veranda at first in vain.

But just as I was almost prepared to give up the search and try elsewhere I noticed that at one spot the nails of the flooring seemed newer than at other parts. Calling to Cludde, with his assistance I prized up one of the boards, and the secret was instantly revealed. The board rested on one of the broad wooden pillars supporting the veranda. A hole had been cut down the center of the pillar, and there lay the missing money—doubloons and silver dollars.

Leaving McTavish to gather them up and count them, Cludde and I went down to the kitchen. Vetch was tied to a chair (as Joe had been tied months before), and Joe was sitting over against him, with a cutlass on his knees. I told Vetch briefly that the money was found.

Even now his bravado did not desert him. He repeated we had no right to call in question any action of his and that none but Sir Richard could claim an account of his stewardship. I did not reply, as I might have done, that the money, being found in the house after Mistress Lucy had come of age, was patently hers, and in attempting to recover it he was no better than a common housebreaker. I bade Punchard collect our men in readiness to march back to the brig, and strictly charged him that he should have every care of Vetch on the way.

Then I saw a shadow of fear cross the villain's face. He knew that to brazen it out longer would avail him nothing, and 'twas his inward vision of the hangman, I doubt not, that caused him to go white to the lips.

Cludde went from the room to gather his few possessions in preparation for our despatch. Vetch struggled with himself for a moment, then said huskily:

"Bold, you must let me go. I will make it worth your while. Your father's will—is not destroyed; let me go—and I will tell you where it is."

"I will make no terms with you," I said.

"But what do you gain by refusing?" he cried. "You are only a lieutenant; promotion is slow; money would help you on. You have your revenge on me—and lose your property, for I vow I will tell you nothing unless you let me go."

"I would not let you go for a king's ransom," I said. "The wrongs you have done me are nothing; but for your villainy I should not be a king's officer today. I could almost forgive you. But nothing in the world could persuade me to forget the wrongs you have done to a helpless woman—the indignities you put upon her, the villainous designs you harbored against her. No, you have done your rascally work—you shall take your wages."

He said no more then, but presently, when Cludde returned he made an appeal to him.

"Dick," he said, "you and I are bound by long friendship—"

"Which you have killed," said Cludde, interrupting him.

"But you will not forget all the past—our school days, the merry times we had then and after, all I have done with you, and for you. For a dozen years we were as close as brothers; you won't turn against me now?"

"I know, but—Lucy—'twas unpardonable," Cludde stammered in great discomfort. "I'm not spotless—done things I am ashamed of—but you carried things too far—you wanted to force her to marry you—"

"And do you think she will marry you now, you fool?" cried Vetch, with a flash of his old fiery temper.

"I could wish her to wed a better man," says poor Cludde.

"Even so good as Mr. Humphrey Bold," says Vetch with a sneer.

Cludde looked at me. If he intended to say anything 'twas prevented by the entrance of Joe Punchard with news that all was ready.

"Bring him along," I said, glancing towards Vetch.

Joe unstrapped his legs, leaving his arms still bound, and they followed us from the room.

We set off on our seaward march, having just time to regain the brig before the day became oppressive. We took with us, as prisoners, such of the buccaneers as had been caught; what became of the rest I never knew. Vetch marched with them, amid a guard of our men.

On the way I learned from Cludde how it happened that he was at the house at a time when, but for him, the buccaneers' attack might have been successful before I came on the scene. Being convalescent from his wound, and learning that Mistress Lucy wished to consult Mr. McTavish about selling the estate (for she had determined to carry through the negotiations begun by Vetch), he had offered to carry a message to the steward, intending to remain at the house for a few days for change of air. He had seized the opportunity also of bringing to Uncle Moses and Noah charters of freedom from their mistress, in reward for their services to her and to hers. Cludde insisted on her accepting from him the five hundred dollars which I had promised Noah for his life, and she handed it back as a present for the negro.

We were talking about all these strange things that had happened, when suddenly we heard a commotion at the head of the column. Running hastily forward, I saw Punchard and several of my men rushing at full speed across a tract of scrubby land in pursuit of Vetch. He had persuaded the buccaneer beside him, whose hands had not been bound, to cut his bonds.

I joined in the chase; Cludde hung back; I think that after all he would not have been ill pleased, for old friendship's sake, if Vetch had got away. Vetch had had but a few yards' start, but he was a swift runner, and I doubted much whether any of us could overtake him. We could not bring him down with a shot, for my men, though their muskets were loaded, had not kindled their matches, so that before they could fire he was out of range. Foremost of the pursuers was Joe, bounding along like a deer, furious (as he afterwards told me) because he regarded the escape as due to his own negligence.

We had raced on for maybe half a mile, and still had not lessened the distance between us and the fugitive, when I suddenly saw him sink above his ankles into the earth. He uttered a terrible shriek; the man running beside me, who knew something of the country, cried out "A cockpit!" in accents of horror and stopped short. But the agonizing cries of the poor wretch who was sinking inch by inch into the horrible hole whose treacherous surface had beguiled him were more than I could endure. 'Twas not a death for the foulest villain on earth. Heedless of the warning shouts of my crew, I dashed forward, hoping to reach Vetch in time to rescue him ere he was sucked under.

To venture directly on the spot where he was sinking would, I knew, be certain death to me. But when I reached the edge of the cockpit I flung myself on my face, thinking with my outstretched arms to seize him. He turned his head and saw me. To this day I shudder as I see again the anguish, the mute imploring entreaty, that spoke out of his ghastly features.

I could not reach him.

I crawled forward, and my hands began to sink. Joe Punchard behind was shouting to recall me. Vetch was up to his shoulders. Half my body was on solid ground, and with a prayer on my lips I was edging forward inch by inch to make one final effort, when I felt my feet held fast; I was hauled back with great violence, just as Vetch, with a scream that rang in my ears and ran through my dreams for weeks afterwards and haunts me still, disappeared forever.



Chapter 32: I Become Bold.

The flags were at half mast when we sailed into Port Royal Harbor, with the pirate brig in our wake; and my dark foreboding was confirmed by the first news we had when we stepped ashore. Admiral Benbow was dead. Sturdy fighter as he was, he had contended gallantly for near a month against the fever that ensued upon the amputation of his leg, but 'twas not Heaven's will that he should live for further service to his country. In the presence of Death, the great leveler, all detraction is hushed, all enmities are extinguished; and even some who had thwarted and criticized the admiral sincerely deplored his loss. He had won no great victories, done nothing to dazzle the eyes of men; but I make bold to say that, in the long roll of England's worthies no name will ever shine more brilliantly to a seaman's eyes than that of honest John Benbow.

Rear Admiral Whetstone, to whom the command of the West Indian squadron fell, was pleased to compliment me on my dealings with the buccaneers, and appointed me first lieutenant of the British frigate on which the officers under sentence of the court martial were to be conveyed to England.

When we sailed out of Port Royal (you may be sure I had Joe Punchard with me), we acted as convoy to a large merchant brig, richly laden with produce of the island, and with a freight more precious to me in the person of Mistress Lucy. She had not waited for the completion of the business connected with the sale of her estate, having perfect confidence in the integrity of Mr. McTavish, who would remit the price to her in due course. From a mercenary point of view the time was not well chosen for the disposal of her property, values always diminishing in time of war. But the island was associated for her now with so many unpleasant incidents that she was glad to sever the last tie that bound her to it and return to her happy life with the Allardyces.

'Twas a bleak day in December when we sailed into Plymouth Sound. As soon as we had spoken the port a boat put off hearing a paper sealed with the seal of Prince George, the Lord High Admiral. And there fell to my captain a duty which sure no man could have performed without compunction. I was truly thankful no such dreadful task was ever mine. The prince ordered that the sentence of the court martial should be executed upon those two unhappy captains, Kirkby and Wade, on the deck of the vessel, with a full muster of the crew. When they were drawn up in lines according to rank, the whole ship's company, from the lieutenants and master's mates down to the grommet and the boy; the captain, pale as death but in a firm voice, gave the word of command at which, with one volley of muskets, the souls of those two cravens and traitors were sped into eternity. Their crimes were flagrant, the sentence was most just; but I hope and pray no Englishman will ever do the like again.

The same papers contained news of a more agreeable nature. Considering the high terms in which Mr. Benbow had spoken of Captains Fogg and Vincent, and the recommendation he made on their behalf, the prince was pleased to command that the sentence of suspension should be remitted, and that they should be again employed in the Queen's service. I was sorry that I could not be present when this good news was conveyed to them; they had remained in Jamaica, and did not learn of the prince's clemency for several months. I never saw Captain Fogg again; but I had the pleasure to serve with Captain Vincent seven years later, when we each commanded a vessel in Admiral Baker's squadron that cruised about the Irish coasts in search of Duguay-Trouin. He retired from the service soon afterwards, and lived for twenty years longer in much contentment. 'Tis sixteen years (so fast does time fly) since I was bid to his funeral.

We continued to Portsmouth, where, the ship being paid off, I hastened with Mistress Lucy, her faithful nurse and Joe, to be in time to keep Christmas at Shrewsbury. My good friends Squire Allardyce and his lady were in the seventh heaven of delight when I restored Mistress Lucy once more to their arms, and overwhelmed me with their praises when they heard from her a full recital of what they were pleased to call my heroic deeds on her behalf. In truth I think there was little of the heroic in anything I had done, but just my plain duty, and what any man of honor would have attempted for any woman in like circumstances.

The squire made a comical grimace when (after the ladies had disappeared) I expressed this opinion.

"Ads bobs!" he cried, "what are young fellows made of nowadays! Have you spirit for nothing but fighting the French, Mr. Humphrey Bold? I could have sworn there would be a Mistress Bold by this time."

I reminded him that I was as yet only a lieutenant on eighty pounds a year (though I looked for my captain's commission when Prince George should have had time to overlook Admiral Whetstone's report).

"But hasn't Lucy enough for you both and a large family to boot?—though to be sure she made a precious bad bargain over that estate of hers. D'you want her to be snapped up under your very nose? Why, young Cludde will have her yet, if he has turned out such a paragon as you would make it appear."

But I corrected him on this point, for on our journey to the Hall Mistress Lucy told me (what had been a secret hitherto) that Dick Cludde and Lucetta Gurney would one day make a match of it. In the end the old gentleman pished and pshawed and called me a young fool, but I learned from Mistress Allardyce afterwards that in the bosom of his family he laid this also to my credit.

I stayed at the Hall one night, as did Joe Punchard (who, between Susan and the cook, spent a merry evening, and made Giles turn black with jealousy), and then set off with him to see my older friends in Shrewsbury. Mr. Vetch and his good lady welcomed me right royally. They were in excellent health, Mistress Vetch fine in a new magenta-colored cap, and I was right glad to learn that the lawyer's practice had grown quite to its former prosperity, and that he was spoken of as mayor for the next year. (This honor, however, he did not attain to, the election falling on Mr. William Bowlder the tanner.)

I warrant you I had to tell over my adventures until my tongue was aweary, my wits being sore put to it, moreover, to avoid the mention of Cyrus, for I was resolved that the lawyer's declining years should not be vexed by the knowledge of his nephew's villainy and dreadful end. But Fate was against me in this. I had strictly charged Joe Punchard to keep silence on all that pertained to Cyrus Vetch; but having his pockets well lined, and being of a generous and social disposition, he made a great feast on Christmas eve, to which he invited certain friends of his mother, Nelly Hind among them, and some who had been 'prentices at the same time as himself.

And in the height of their entertainment, good ale flowing very freely, Joe, usually the most abstemious of tars, was a little overtaken by the liquor he had drunk, and, with no other object than to heighten my reputation, must needs tell how I had ventured into the jaws of death (so he put it) to save the man of all others who had done me the most ill. And next day Nelly Hind meets Mistress Vetch at the church door and pours the whole tale into her ears; and by and by Joe comes himself with a very doleful countenance and begs Mistress Vetch not to let her husband know, and very humbly asks my pardon, vowing not to drink more than a quart in future even though the Queen should bid him do otherwise.

But Mistress Vetch bore an old grudge against Cyrus for the tricks he had played on me, and the trouble he had brought on the lawyer, forgetting, good soul, that but for this same trouble she would still have been (so far as one can tell), Becky Pennyquick and a widow. She declared to me that she would not have the matter hidden up, quoting against me the Bible text that says a candle is not put under a bushel, but set on a candlestick to give light to the whole house. And so that the light might dazzle as many as possible, she invited a dozen neighbors to dinner on Boxing Day and sprung the story on poor Mr. Vetch as he sat at the head of his own table. ('Tis marvelous what strange ineptitudes mar the characters of excellent good folk.)

Luckily our good friend Captain Galsworthy was among the guests. He ever treated poor Becky with a sort of good-humored tolerance, and now, perceiving the shadow that crossed the lawyer's face, he broke in upon the dame's loquacity with a tremendous tirade against the captains who had behaved so treacherously towards Mr. Benbow (the story of whose last fight he had already drunk in from my lips).

"How can you wonder at it," he cried, "when you remember the covetous spirit that overspread the kingdom before Dutch William came to rule us—when men perfectly scrambled for the revenues of the crown, and made their private fortunes out of the nation's treasure! 'Tis a matter of years, ay, generations, to undo all the mischief that springs from such corruption; and when money, oftener than merit, gained admission to a command, no wonder that such scoundrels as Wade and Kirkby were trusted with our men-of-war.

"By God, sir!—" and here he raised his clenched fist, no doubt to bang upon the table; but being seated at the corner, very close to the wall (the party being a large one for the room), he drove his elbow clean through a wooden panel beside the fireplace. He swung back, full of consternation and remorse.

"And now see what you have done, with your profanity and all!" cries Mistress Vetch, her cap sidling upon her head as she shook it with vexation. "You was always a violent man; 'tis no thanks to you that poor Humphrey hasn't been killed over and over again, for 'twas you and no one else as taught him to fight. And who'll pay the bill for your breakages? That's what I say!"

Mr. Vetch did his best to soothe his angry spouse; I fear he suffered a good deal at times from her unmannerliness, though to be sure she was an excellent housewife and had a heart of gold. And Captain Galsworthy, saying never a word in reply to her outbreak, rubbed his elbow and said with a rueful smile:

"'Tis assault and battery, Vetch; I'm sorry: but I wonder why they call it the funny bone!"

Mistress Vetch would, I am sure, have given her views on this question had not Mr. Pinhorn, the surgeon, who was at the other side of the corner from the captain, suddenly called out:

"I say, Vetch, I fear you'll have to choose another receptacle for your secret documents."

"He has no secrets from me, I would have you know!" cries Mistress Vetch in high indignation, not knowing in the least what had occasioned his remark.

"I don't doubt it, madam," said Mr. Pinhorn, with a comical twist of the mouth; "but maybe he stowed that paper there before you and he was made one."

He pointed to the hole made by Captain Galsworthy's elbow, and there, sure enough, was the white end of a folded paper showing.

"Dear me," says Mr. Vetch, getting up from his seat. "I knew nothing of it."

He goes to the broken panel, brings out the paper, and as he looked at it turned so ghastly pale that Mr. Pinhorn clutched a decanter of brandy and began to pour some of it into a glass. We were all struck silent with wonderment; even Mistress Vetch being tongue tied. Then Mr. Vetch turned to me and, holding out the paper with trembling hand, tears standing in his eyes, said:

"God be thanked for all His mercies!"

'Twas my father's will, dusty, gnawed at the edges, but indubitably the will which had disappeared seven years before. Remembering the hiding place in which Cyrus had secreted the money at Penolver, it was no mystery to me that he should have fashioned a similar receptacle for the will he had purloined.

There is no need to tell of the congratulations showered upon me; My hand was wrung by my kind neighbors until it tingled with numbness. Mistress Vetch fell into hysterics—mercilessly ignored by Mr. Pinhorn. And as for Captain Galsworthy, he seemed incapable of doing anything but repeat his question, chuckling aloud "Can anyone tell me why 'tis called the funny bone?"

The party soon broke up, to carry the news far and wide through Shrewsbury. And I, after an affecting five minutes with the lawyer, suddenly stuffed the paper in my pocket, flung on my hat, and ran out with furious haste to saddle my horse. Mistress Vetch came to the door as I mounted.

"Mind you speak the villain plain," she cried.

I laughed joyfully and galloped away up Pride Hill. The tale of my discovery had already got abroad; the people came to their doors and cheered me, and some little fellows of the school stood in the middle of the road and waved their caps and shouted "Huzzay for Captain Bold!"

But I did not ride straight on towards the Wem Road and Cludde Court, as Becky had supposed I intended. I turned into Dogpole, rode helter skelter down Wyle Cop in the very course where Joe's barrel had rolled, and never drew rein until I came to the door of the Hall. 'Twas opened to me by Roger, home from following the campaign in Flanders—a strapping fine fellow, near as tall as myself.

"Gad, but your horse is in a sweat!" he said by way of greeting. (We laughed at it afterwards.).

"Where is Lucy?" I said.

He stared at me for a moment, then burst into a hearty roar.

"Up you go," says he, clapping me on the back. "Egad, and I'll go and find the squire."

That is more than forty years ago. My hand is weary with writing: why should I tell you more? There is indeed little more to tell, for from that time, thank God, there have been no mischances in my life. Yet maybe those who have read my story patiently hereto (if any there be) may like to have it rounded off—totus, teres, et rotundus.

A few weeks after I regained possession of my little property Sir Richard Cludde died—of gout and other diseases, said Mr. Pinhorn; Mistress Vetch said of rage. His estate had been much impoverished, and his widow was now left almost penniless. She was my father's sister, and, my own lot being happy, I could not endure to think of her in penury and distress. So I made her a small allowance through Mr. Vetch (and I can vouch for it this was a secret his wife never knew)—sufficient to keep her from want. She never saw me, made me no acknowledgment, and to the day of her death maintained, in the little house she took next St. Michael's Church, the haughty bearing which had always won her such dislike.

THE END