As he shouted "Fire!" at the top of his voice, the order was heard by the blacks, and away they went scampering down the hill, hoping to avoid the bullets which they expected would follow.

The greater number got under cover, or escaped by falling flat on their faces. Ignorant savages as they were, they were unable to take advantage of the success their bravery and hardihood had accomplished. On this the ultimate safety of the hard-pressed garrison depended. Had they pressed on through the opening which the fire had produced, they might have forced their way, not only within the stockade, but into the house itself. Hopes were entertained that the enemy had had fighting enough for the night, and intended to allow the fire to do its work before making another assault. Fresh efforts were made by the garrison to extinguish the fire, which had got hold of the stockades. They had been composed chiefly of dry timber, which easily ignited and burned furiously. At length the lieutenant saw that all attempts to save them would be futile, and that the utmost that could be done would be to prevent the doors and windows of the house itself from catching fire. This, by constant watchfulness and great exertion, was done; and he then, complying with Mr Twigg's earnest appeals, summoned the people to come within the house, when the door was barricaded, and they prepared to hold out, in what they had from the first called their citadel, till the moment for the intended sortie had arrived.

It was a night of terror to many and anxiety to all. Their ammunition was running terribly short; but a few rounds only remained, and there was barely food sufficient to afford a breakfast for the weary garrison. The water also was almost exhausted.

Daylight came, and the lieutenant went himself to the roof of the house to look out, but could see no friendly band coming to their relief. The young ladies' dresses were flying in the morning breeze, sadly rent by the bullets which had passed through them. The lieutenant then turned his glance into the valley, where he saw the black besiegers still apparently as numerous as ever. The hedge of fire had now burned itself out; large gaps existed in the stockades, but portions still remained standing, and would afford some protection to his men in case a sortie had to be made. His chief object was to examine the ground which they would have to traverse, should Mr Pemberton carry out his intention of coming to their relief. He at last descended, and went round to each of the windows, where he had posted a sentry to keep a look-out on the movements of the rebels; then, feeling that he had done his duty, he threw himself down on a cane sofa, to snatch for a short time the rest he so much required.

The other inmates of the house, who had been kept awake all the night, were dozing in their chairs or on their sofas; the men not on guard were lying down on the ground; the children were in their cribs, watched over by Martha. She had reserved some food for them, and they were in that respect better off than any one else. The young ladies and Mrs Twigg had positively refused to take more than their share. They were happily also forgetting their troubles in sleep.

Weary as he was, Mr Ferris felt the dangerous position in which they were placed too much to rest, and continued going from room to room, looking out at each window, and occasionally mounting to the roof. He was standing there, when he saw a single black advancing up the hill from among the savages. He was unarmed, and carried in his hand a pole with a large white flag waving from it. He evidently understood the use of a flag of truce, and trusted to its being respected. He advanced till he got within hearing distance of the house. He was a tall, strongly built man, his features unusually hideous even for a negro. On seeing Mr Ferris, he shouted at the top of his voice, "Will you gib in? You see what we can do. We ask you to make friends."

"We shall be ready to do so on condition that you lay down your arms and return to your duty," answered Mr Ferris.

The black laughed loud and hoarsely. "Do you know who I am?" he asked.

"No," answered Mr Ferris.

"Den I tell you—I Cudjoe. Some inside de house know me, and know dat I no fool. Listen den. We go away and leave Massa Twigg—he good man— and all de people alone on one 'dition, dat you gib up the oberseer and let us hab him to do wid him as we like. Dat is our 'dition; 'cept it and you safe. If not—listen, massa—you got one lily-white daughter, and Massa Twigg him got wife and piccaninnies. You lub dem. You see what we do dis night; we soon come again wid more faggots and fire and ladders, and we burn de house ober your heads and kill ebery one. Cudjoe no fool—Cudjoe speak de truth. Listen, massa, what I say—gib up de overseer or die."

"It is useless making such a proposal," answered Mr Ferris; "no one would consent to it. If you have any other terms to offer we will listen to them. We can hold out against all your attempts to take the house. You have already lost a number of your foolish followers, and many more will be killed if you venture again to attack us."

While Mr Ferris was speaking, he heard a person coming up the ladder, and glancing round he saw Thompson the overseer standing by his side, and on the point of lifting a musket, which he had placed on the roof. Before Mr Ferris had time to stop him, he had raised it to his shoulder and was taking aim at the insurgent leader. As he pulled the trigger Mr Ferris struck up the weapon, and the bullet whistled over the black's head.

"Respect a flag of truce, even in the hands of a savage," he exclaimed indignantly. "If we set such an example, what can we expect in return?"

Cudjoe had observed the act. "I tank you, massa," he shouted, "but dat man die before de sun go down;" and, rapidly turning, he bounded down the hill.

Several shots, which went whistling after him, were fired by the men on guard in the lower story.

"You have done an ill service to the country, sir, and worse to all within this house," exclaimed the overseer. "That man is the mainspring of the rebellion. Had I killed him, the blacks in this neighbourhood, without a leader, would have taken to flight, and we should have been safe."

"I did what was right. A flag of truce should ever be held sacred," answered Mr Ferris. "I do not regret refusing his request, but your act has prevented us from making other terms, which might have been done."

"No terms can be kept with savages. It is impossible to trust them," exclaimed the overseer. "However, we must now stand the consequences."

Mr Ferris, who felt his anger rising at what he considered Thompson's insolence, descended from the roof.

The firing had aroused the rest of the party. The lieutenant even, although musket-shots were familiar sounds, started to his feet, believing that the house was about again to be attacked. Mr Ferris explained what had happened, and both the lieutenant and Mr Twigg agreed that he had acted rightly, and blamed the overseer for firing. Lieutenant Belt especially was indignant at his conduct.

"They may or may not venture again to attack us, but if they do, and succeed, we can expect no mercy at their hands," he said.

"We could have expected none, at all events, I believe," observed Mr Twigg.

Some of the garrison, who had a lower sense of honour than Mr Ferris, were not so well satisfied with his decision, and declared that if they had had their will they would have given up the overseer to Cudjoe, though they took care not to utter such an opinion in his hearing.

The position of the garrison was now truly critical. The shots uselessly fired had expended several of the few rounds, now of such inestimable value. The lieutenant, on making inquiries, found that some of the men had only a single charge apiece; none had more than two. Should another attack be made, what hope had they of beating off the foe? He did not conceal the state of affairs from the gentlemen.

"Then our best chance will be to sally out at once and fight our way towards Walton," said Mr Twigg.

"Unless our friends should appear to our relief we should be surrounded and cut to pieces," answered the lieutenant. "When the blacks find that we have no powder, they will attack us with greater confidence. We may still hold out for some hours in the house, and as the enemy are not as yet aware of our want of ammunition, they may possibly not again venture on an assault."

"But if they do?" asked Mr Twigg.

"Then we must reserve each bullet for the most daring among them. If we can shoot their leaders, the rest will probably take to flight."

"But if we fail, and should they force their way in?" asked the planter, whose spirits were sinking as he thought of the fearful danger to which his family were exposed.

"Then, sir, we must endeavour to drive them out again with our cutlasses and bayonets; or, if the worst happens, place ourselves round the ladies and children, and fight to the last," answered the lieutenant in a confident tone. "Though my sword-arm cannot serve me, I can use a pike or bayonet."

Mrs Twigg had heard of what had taken place, and began to suspect their desperate condition. She imparted her apprehensions to Ellen and Fanny, though neither of them showed any signs of fear.

"I wish that I could use a pistol or sword," exclaimed Fanny; "but surely we can do something. We can hurl stones or logs of wood down on the heads of our assailants from the windows or roof."

"I will help you," cried Ellen, inspired by her friend's courage. "Let us get them carried up at once, in case they are wanted. There are paving-stones which can be dug up and broken into fragments, or pieces of the heavy furniture will serve the purpose. We will at once tell Mr Twigg what we are ready to do."

They hurried into the room where the gentlemen were assembled.

"A brave idea," cried Lieutenant Belt, looking at the young heroines with admiration; "but others can do the work you propose. You must not be exposed to the risk of appearing on the roof. The enemy's bullets, as we know from experience, would reach you there. Let me entreat you to remain below. We shall fight with more confidence when we know that you are safe."

Ellen's suggestion, however, was carried out, and men were immediately sent to break up the paving-stones in the back part of the house. The blacks, at all events, were not likely to gain an easy victory. Hopes indeed were entertained that they would not make another attack, but those hopes were doomed to be disappointed.

"Here they come!" cried several men stationed at the windows.

Lieutenant Belt, starting to his feet, saw the whole body of blacks advancing, some in front, others on one side of the house.

"Now, my men, I charge you not to fire a shot till you can pick out the fellows leading them on, or, if you cannot distinguish them from the rest, wait till the ladders are placed against the wall; for see, they have got ladders with them, and faggots too, and they intend, if they cannot succeed by other means, to burn us out. But do not let that alarm you; if you keep up your courage, we shall prevent them."

As he was speaking, the insurgent slaves were drawing nearer and nearer, though advancing slowly, apparently to enable those carrying the ladders and faggots to keep up with the rest. Just then a dense volume of smoke burst forth between the house and the sea to the north-east, flames quickly following, driven by a brisk breeze which had lately sprung up. The blacks, retreating before the fire, had to make a circuit to avoid it. So furious were the flames that they threatened to set the neighbouring plantations on fire. The chief effect was to shroud the view over the sea in that direction from those in the house; another was somewhat to delay the advance of the blacks, who had evidently determined to approach the house with their whole body at once.

The lieutenant having disposed his men to the best advantage, again ascended to the roof to see if any help was coming. He gazed eagerly round to the west and north. He could discover neither the looked-for signal announcing the approach of Mr Pemberton's party, nor any troops or militia. As he was about again to go down the ladder, he discovered the overseer lying on the roof with a musket by his side.

"Why are you not at your post?" he asked.

"I am of more use where I am," answered the overseer. "I intend doing what was left undone just now. Don't interfere with me."

The lieutenant had not time to exchange words with the man; he hastened down that he might be ready to encourage the rest.

Suddenly the savages gave forth one of those fearful yells which they are accustomed to utter as they rush forward to the fight. As soon as they got within musket range, those in the front line began firing, showing that they evidently had abundance of ammunition.

The lieutenant distinguished a tall black, with a musket in his hand, leading them on. He raised it to his shoulder and fired. At that moment a fearful shriek was heard—it came from the roof—and a heavy body fell from the trap to the floor below. The black flourished his weapon above his head without stopping to reload.

"De oberseer is dead," cried Martha, who had rushed out of a closet in which the children had been placed for safety, "he is dead, pity he not killed dis morning."

The event had indeed occurred too late to be of any avail to the garrison. To attempt making a sortie would now have been madness, for, bad marksmen as were the negroes, the whole party might have been shot down even before they could have reached any available shelter.

Cudjoe's success—for he must have seen the overseer fall by his bullet—encouraged his followers, and now, shrieking, leaping, and brandishing their weapons, they rushed forward. In vain the lieutenant charged his men not to throw a shot away; the greater number in their eagerness fired, forgetting that they had no fresh charges, and when they felt for their cartridges to reload, they found that their ammunition was expended. The enemy thus almost with impunity reached the walls.

Several of the remaining shots were fired at Cudjoe. He seemed to bear a charmed life, or rather the wonderful leaps and bounds he made amid his companions prevented the defenders of the house, none of whom were over good marksmen, from taking a steady aim at him. Like a swarm of ants about to devour some creature of the forest, the blacks surrounded the house, and began to lift the ladders and place them against the walls.

The lieutenant now ordered the party he had told off for that purpose to go up on the roof to force back the ladders, to hurl down the stones, and to defend it to the last.

Desperate, indeed, had now become the condition of the devoted inmates of Bellevue.



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

THE CHAMPION SAILS FROM PORT ROYAL—IN SEARCH OF ENEMIES—CHASES A PIRATE, WHICH ESCAPES—RETURNS TO THE NORTH COAST OF JAMAICA—NORMAN FOLEY HEARS OF THE INSURRECTION—FINDS SOME MURDERED WHITES—DREADFUL SCENE AT FORT MARIA—THE SHIP PROCEEDS ALONG THE COAST—A WHITE MAN SEEN MAKING A SIGNAL FROM THE SHORE—A BOAT SENT TO BRING HIM OFF—PURSUED BY BLACKS—RESCUED—PROVES TO BE ARCHIE SANDYS—GIVES AN ACCOUNT OF THE ATTACK ON BELLEVUE—A CONFLAGRATION—SIGNALS SEEN—AN EXPEDITION UNDER NORMAN FOLEY SENT ON SHORE—THE REBELS PUT TO FLIGHT—THE GARRISON OF BELLEVUE RELIEVED—MEETING OF NORMAN AND ELLEN—MAJOR MALCOLM AND A STRONG FORCE ARRIVE—THE CHAMPION SAILS—SIGNS OF A COMING GALE.

When Gerald wrote the last letter his father and Norah had received, the Champion was on the point of sailing from Port Royal harbour, on a cruise between Jamaica and Cuba, with directions to look out for any of the enemy's privateers or smaller vessels of war, or should she come in sight of any squadron of larger ships, to watch their movements, and to return to port with an account of their whereabouts. Captain Olding also received orders to visit the northern coast of the island, and ascertain if the reports which had just arrived of the unquiet state of the slaves had any foundation in truth; but he was not to waste time on the coast, as the former part of his orders was considered of by far the greatest importance. Still his second lieutenant very naturally hoped that he might obtain an opportunity of paying his promised visit to Miss Ferris, and Gerald expected that he might get a run on shore, and perhaps spend a pleasant day with his friends. He had inquired, when at Mr Twigg's office in Kingston, about the Ouzel Galley. The anxiety he had naturally felt when he heard of the hurricane had been relieved on his being assured that a search had been made for her along the coast, and that not the slightest trace of her could be discovered. He therefore hoped that the next packet would bring the account of her safe arrival at Waterford, and that he might before long meet Owen again at Kingston.

The Champion, after rounding Port Morant, stood to the northward towards Saint Jago de Cuba, and chased several vessels, which got away from her, not perhaps very much to Lieutenant Foley's disappointment. He even ventured, when dining with the commander, to speak of the importance of visiting the northern coast of Jamaica, in case the slaves should really, as was supposed possible, be contemplating an insurrection. The commander, who did not imagine that such a thing was likely, was, however, bent on looking out for enemies of a size which he might hope to capture. He was heartily joined by Lieutenant Tarwig, who, if he did not care much for honour and glory, was at all events anxious to obtain a good lump of prize-money, with which he might set up housekeeping with Mrs Tarwig, whenever he had persuaded some lovely damsel to share his fortunes. The master and the other officers were very much of his way of thinking.

"A sail on the weather-beam, sir," said Gerald, entering the cabin where the commander, the second lieutenant, the purser, and two midshipmen were his guests at dinner.

"Empty your glasses, gentlemen," said the commander hurriedly, rising and running up the companion-ladder on deck. "What is she like?" he shouted to the look-out on the mast-head.

"A ship, sir, going free, and standing to the eastward," was the answer.

"Make all sail, Mr Tarwig; we shall be up to her before dark, and ascertain what she is. Haul up a couple of points—she can't escape between us and the land."

The breeze was fresh, and the stranger continued on her former course, either not having discovered the corvette or not being desirous of avoiding her. Beyond her was seen the coast of Cuba rising into mountainous elevations, the more distant scarcely to be distinguished from the blue sky.

The corvette having been lately out of dock, and being in good trim, sailed her best. To deceive the enemy, the commander had had some canvas painted black and hung over her sides, triced up a couple of feet or so above the hammock nettings, to give her the appearance of a merchantman, but an observant eye might have detected her by the perfect trim of her sails. This, however, under the present circumstances, could not be avoided.

The stranger, now clearly visible from the deck, was after a time seen to haul to the wind. She was apparently not much smaller than the Champion, and probably did not carry fewer guns; it was hoped, therefore, that she would before nightfall heave to and await a contest.

"She is a fast ship whatever she is," observed Mr Tarwig; "but as to her wish to fight us, or whether she is French or Spanish, I have great doubts."

"She has hoisted Spanish colours, at all events," said Mr Foley, who had been looking at her through the telescope, "but she does not shorten sail."

"She is probably making for Cumberland harbour," said the master, who had been looking at the chart, "and if she gets in there it may be a hard matter to persuade her to come out again, unless we send in the boats and cut her out."

For a considerable time neither of the ships altered their course. The stranger, however, going free, was making faster way through the water than the Champion, which was close-hauled, and it seemed very likely, should the wind shift more to the eastward, that the former vessel would pass her. The sun was already approaching the horizon, and although the crescent moon could be seen faintly in the sky, it would not long afford its light. The stranger, if inclined to escape, might do so during the hours of darkness. The two ships, however, were now scarcely three miles apart, and rapidly approaching each other. The Champion was prepared for action, the crew were at their quarters, and the guns run out. The sea was sufficiently smooth to allow even the lee guns to be fought without difficulty. Mr Billhook had taken the telescope and was narrowly examining the stranger.

"Shiver my timbers, but I believe she is the same buccaneering craft we found alongside the Ouzel Galley, when we chased her till she had well-nigh run on those rascally Bahama reefs," he exclaimed, still keeping his eye at the glass. "Yes, there is a square patch on her mizen-topsail to repair a hole which I doubt not an enemy's shot had made, as she was showing her heels in the fashion the picaroons always do, unless they hope to make a prize of some unwary merchantman."

The commander, on hearing this, took the telescope.

"Yes," he said. "If not the same vessel, she is very like her; and should she be so, she will not wait to allow us an opportunity of taking her if she can help it, but will run ahead of us even now, unless the wind shifts a point or two more to the eastward, and then our best chance of catching her will be to tack and stand in for the land."

The wind, however, held and the sun went down, when the stranger, setting flying sails above her royals, stood almost across the Champion's bows.

"Try her with our foremost gun," cried the commander to the second lieutenant, who had gone to his station forward.

McTrigger, the gunner, who was on the look-out expecting the order, trained the gun himself, and in the dim light of evening the white splinters were seen flying from the stranger's side. The next instant nine flashes of flame issued forth from her, the shot ricocheting over the calm ocean, three or four passing close to the corvette but failing to strike her.

"The fellow wishes to show us that he can give as good as he can take," said the master. "I wonder, since he has got so many teeth, he ran from us in the fashion he did before."

"Perhaps they were not as well sharpened as they are now," remarked the doctor, chuckling at his own wit.

"If we get alongside we'll either draw them or knock them down his throat," answered Mr Billhook.

"Thank you, kind sir, I owe you one," replied the doctor, who objected to any one making jokes but himself.

All on board, now that her character was discovered, were more eager than ever to come up with the pirate. She was, however, evidently making better way through the water than the Champion. Again she fired her starboard guns, though she did not alter her course to do so; while the Champion could not fire her larboard foremost guns without keeping away a couple of points or more, and thereby losing ground. It was very provoking to have got within shot of a buccaneer which was reported to have committed so much damage to the trade of the islands, for, though the Spanish colours were still flying at her peak, no one doubted what she was. All the sail the Champion could carry was already set, and nothing that could be done would make her go faster. Twice again she fired, but neither shot reached the enemy. The gloom increasing, dimmer and dimmer grew the enemy's wide spread of canvas, although the silvery light of the moon, playing on the starboard leaches of her sails, for some time showed where she floated on the glittering waters. The moon was, however, going down, and as the night advanced the darkness increased till the chase was almost lost to sight. The officers and even most of the watch below remained on deck.

"She has tacked, sir," cried Mr Foley from forward.

"We'll tack too," said the commander. "Hands, about ship; helms alee; raise tacks and sheets; mainsail haul; of all, haul!" The crew eagerly performed the manoeuvre, and the ship, now on her starboard tack, stood in towards the land.

Many sharp eyes on board were directed towards the spot where the stranger had last been seen. The master had gone to consult his chart; it was his business to warn the commander not to stand on too long towards the coast, although it was not as dangerous from hidden reefs and keys as further to the westward.

"Can anybody see her?" asked the commander, whose eyesight was less acute than that of most of his younger officers.

No one answered.

"I got a glimpse of her a minute ago, but I can't make her out anywhere now, sir," said Mr Foley.

At length the ship stood on for a quarter of an hour, till the outline of the land could be seen distinctly ahead against the clear sky. Again she was put about, but nowhere was the chase visible. The Champion was now standing along the land at a safe distance. If the buccaneer could not be discovered from her deck, neither could she from that of the buccaneer; she might come upon her unexpectedly. A sharp look-out was kept all night, but when morning returned no sail was in sight. A mist hung like a thick veil along the coast, allowing only the summits of the higher ridges to be seen, as the sun, rising above the horizon, tinged them of a red hue with his glowing rays. To look for her to the eastward was useless, and the ship again being put about, stood to the westward along the land; but, except a few small craft which immediately made their escape among the rocks, or within the numerous bays and creeks, no craft worth overhauling was seen.

The commander was a calm-tempered man, accustomed to disappointment, or he might have joined with some of the younger officers in their expressions of disgust at having lost the picaroon. Lieutenant Foley tried to look unconcerned when the commander at length expressed his intention of standing across to the Jamaica coast, touching at different places to ascertain what was going forward on shore.

As the wind was favourable the Champion was not long in making the land. A small bay marked as Peyton's Cove on the chart lay directly abreast of her. The commander, heaving the ship to, sent his second lieutenant with a boat to try and ascertain from any of the people in the neighbourhood what was going forward, that he might direct his course accordingly. A fisherman's hut appeared not far off from where he landed, and the lieutenant made his way towards it. The door was closed, but Mr Foley, on listening, heard a loud snore from within. He knocked.

"Ki! who are you? What you come for?" asked a gruff voice.

"Open the door, my friend, and I will tell you," answered the lieutenant; "but bear a hand, for I am in a hurry."

The door was speedily opened, and a stout, well-fed negro appeared.

"Beg pardon, Massa Osifer," exclaimed the man, who had evidently been taking his midday sleep after the labours of the morning, for he stood blinking his eyes as the bright light shone on them; "what you want?"

"I want to know what is going forward in the country; and if you cannot inform me, pray say where I can find some one who can, for I see no dwelling-houses hereabouts."

"Oh, massa, bad, berry bad. De black slaves great rascals. Dey say dat dey murder all de garrison at Fort Maria, and kill de white buckras eberywhere."

"That is indeed bad news," observed Mr Foley, scarcely believing the man.

"It true news too," answered the fisherman in a positive tone. "If you wish to know, go on along de road up dere, on de top of de hill to de right, and dere you find a house, and de people tell you what happen, if dey alive; but me tink all de people dead by dis time, seeing dat dere troats were cut last night."

"Is such really the case?" exclaimed the lieutenant.

"Iss, massa; dey cut my troat 'cause I free gentleman, but I hide away and pull off in de boat, and so I 'scape."

The black spoke so positively that the lieutenant, not thinking it prudent to venture alone, lest some of the insurgent slaves might be in the neighbourhood, called up his men and proceeded along the road the fisherman had pointed out, till he reached a house embosomed in trees. The doors were open, but no one came forth. He entered. Marks of blood were on the floor, and an odour of burning pervaded the building. Going along the passage, he found that the fisherman's statement was too true. At the further end of a room lay on the ground the bodies of a white man, a brown young woman, and two children cruelly mangled, while in another room were some extinguished torches, showing that the murderers had intended to set the house on fire, but had suddenly retreated without effecting their purpose. As it was important to return immediately to the ship, he could make no further examination of the building. It had apparently been the residence of a small proprietor. The garden and neighbouring fields, though trampled down, had evidently been carefully cultivated. He hurried back to the beat, passing the fisherman's hut on his way.

"I told you so, massa," said the man quite coolly. "Worse tings happen in other places."

"You did indeed speak the truth," answered the lieutenant, his heart sinking as he thought of the danger to which Ellen and her father might be exposed.

On reaching the ship he informed the commander of the dreadful state of affairs, and recommended that they should stand along the coast and make further inquiries at the towns and forts near the shore. In the last letter he had received from Ellen, she had told him that she was residing at a house some way further to the westward, but its exact position he had been unable to ascertain, and he could not find it marked on the chart.

A fresh and favourable breeze blowing, the ship soon came off Fort Maria, when she hove to, and he—this time having Gerald with him, and accompanied by another boat, of which Crowhurst had the command—pulled on shore. As they approached the fort, the appearance it presented excited their fears that the fisherman's report was likely to prove too true. The flag and staff had vanished, and no sentries were to be seen on the ramparts, while in the centre rose a mass of blackened walls. The guns peering through the embrasures commanded the landing-place, but, as the fort was evidently deserted, the boats pulled in, and the lieutenant and his companions at once leaped on shore. They made their way up a steep path which led to the rear of the fort. The gates were open, and they hurried in. A fearful sight met their gaze. Every building within had been set on fire and gutted. Amid the mass of charred timber lay numerous bodies, apparently, as far as their dreadful condition enabled the party to judge, of white men—some in the dress of civilians, while the half-destroyed uniforms showed that others had been soldiers. Two, from the broken swords still grasped in their hands, were apparently officers, who had fought their way out of the building, which had been the mess-room of the fort, and had been shot or cut down by the savages. A few bodies of blacks were seen, evidently from their dresses the officers' servants, who had been waiting at table. The general state of the fort told its own story. The whole garrison and several visitors had, not dreaming of danger, been suddenly surprised by an overwhelming body of insurgents, who must have rushed in and massacred them before the soldiers could stand to their arms. If any white people in the neighbourhood had escaped with their lives, they must have gone away and not dared to return to the scene of the catastrophe.

The lieutenant and the midshipmen climbed to the highest part of the fort, and looked round in every direction. Nowhere could they see a human being, but in the distance they observed several blackened spaces where flourishing sugar-canes had lately grown or gardens or other plantations had existed. The fisherman's account was thus fearfully verified. As no one could be seen from whom to gain further information, Mr Foley and his companions re-embarked, and pulled back for the ship as fast as the men could lay their backs to the oars. The commander thought of landing the marines and a party of small-arms men, but, without further information, it would be impossible to know in what direction to proceed.

The boats being hoisted in, the sails were again filled, and the ship stood on to the westward as close to the shore as the master would venture to take her. Every telescope on board was turned towards it, no one looking out more eagerly than Norman Foley, who dreaded lest they should come in sight of a once pleasant mansion now reduced to a mass of ruins. If a well-garrisoned fort had been surprised and thus fearfully destroyed, what might not have happened in the event of a single planter's house with small means of defence being attacked. He very naturally conjured up all sorts of dreadful pictures; at the same time, he manfully tried to combat his apprehensions, and to hope for the best.

"I see some one on the shore, sir, making a signal," cried Gerald, who had a telescope to his eye. "He appears to me to be a white man. He is running up and down, seemingly trying to attract our attention. There he is now, under that tall cocoa-nut tree."

All the telescopes in use were turned in the same direction.

"Yes, that is a white man, no doubt about it," said the commander. "He has taken off his shirt and is waving it. Heave the ship to, Mr Tarwig. Call the gig's crew away, Mr Foley, and pull in to ascertain what he wants. There can be little doubt that it is a matter of importance. Come off again as soon as possible, for we shall probably find places further along the coast, where the white people are hard-pressed by the blacks."

The commander's orders were speedily obeyed, and Norman Foley, without the loss of a moment, followed by Gerald who was directed to accompany him, lowered himself into the gig. He was eager to be off. Every moment of time was precious; he had vividly realised the truth of the commander's last remark.

"Give way, lads, give way!" he exclaimed, imparting his eagerness to the boat's crew.

They bent lustily to their oars, and the boat shot rapidly over the blue waters towards the sandy beach, where the white man had been seen. It was yet impossible to discern him, however, without a glass. Mr Foley kept his eyes fixed on the spot, hoping that he would soon again come in sight.

"I see him, sir," cried Gerald; "he is still waving his shirt, and seems in a desperate hurry. Perhaps he is some one who has escaped from the blacks, and he wants us to go and help some white people attacked by them."

"Very probably," answered Norman Foley, with a scarcely suppressed groan.

The boat was nearing the shore.

"He is now making for the west side of the bay, towards a reef of rocks which runs out some way into the sea," exclaimed Gerald. "He expects that he shall reach us sooner."

"I see him," said Mr Foley; but directly afterwards Gerald exclaimed—

"He has disappeared."

"He has had, probably, to go to the inner end of the rock to climb up it," observe the lieutenant. "I thought so," he added; "we'll pull in and look out for a place where we can take him on board."

"He has good reason to be in a hurry," exclaimed Gerald. "See, there on the top of the hill are a whole host of black fellows, and now they are running down towards the sand. I suspect that they are in chase of him, and if he does not make haste they will catch him, too."

While Gerald was speaking, a number of negroes, armed with spears headed with long blades used for cutting the canes, and with axes and other rudely formed weapons, were seen scampering down the hill. They possessed apparently no firearms, however, or the fugitive's chance of escape would have been very small. He made his way along the rough rocks, leaping across the fractures in his course, and often passing spots on which he would scarcely have ventured had not a foe been at his heels. The blacks in their eagerness to catch him scarcely took notice of the boat, though had they done so they might have suspected that her crew possessed firearms, with which they could be reached. They were scarcely more than a hundred yards off, when the boat got up to the ledge of rock, and the white man, springing forward, aided by the bowman, leaped on board and was passed along by the crew to the stern-sheets.

The lieutenant immediately ordered the boat to be backed off, and her head being turned in the direction of the ship, the crew once more gave way. The blacks, meantime, finding that their expected victim had escaped, gave vent to their feelings of anger in shouts and cries. A few also, who had been in the rear, now appearing armed with muskets, had the audacity to fire at the boat, but happily the bullets fell short of her, and she was soon entirely beyond their range.

"Where do you come from? What has happened?" asked the lieutenant, as the stranger sank down by his side.

"I was hiding from the rebel slaves in the wood up in the hill, when I saw the ship out there, and came down in the hopes that the commander would land some of his crew and send them to the assistance of a white family, friends of mine, whose house is surrounded by savages who are threatening their destruction," answered the latter. "There is no time to be lost, for they were fearfully beset, and have neither food nor water remaining, while nearly all their ammunition is, I fear, expended."

"Who are they?" asked Norman Foley, in an evident tone of agitation.

"A Mr Twigg and his family, with whom Mr Ferris, an Irish gentleman, and his daughter are staying. There are several other white people in the house," was the answer.

"Mr and Miss Ferris in danger!" ejaculated the lieutenant and Gerald in the same breath. "How far off is the house? Can we soon reach it?" inquired the former.

"Twelve or fourteen miles to the westward from here," answered the stranger. "I should think with this breeze you might get off it in less than a couple of hours."

"We'll lose no time, and the commander will, I am sure, afford every assistance in his power," said Norman Foley. "Mr and Miss Ferris are friends of mine, and I will use every exertion to go to their assistance. But how do you know that they are so hard-pressed?" he added, anxiously. "Have you made your escape from the house?"

"I did not do so intentionally. Having set out with a number of others to obtain some yams, we were attacked by a party of blacks, and I was made prisoner. Happily I had done some service to two or three slaves among the party, and had saved them more than once from a flogging. While some of the others proposed putting me to death, they dragged me off among them, and before the rest of the gang knew what had happened, it being at night, they enabled me to get off. I made my way along the shore, as I knew that part of the country and recollected places where I could conceal myself. I felt pretty sure, however, that should the black leader or any other instigators of the rebellion discover that I had escaped they would send in pursuit of me. I could not move fast in the darkness, and had got to no great distance when daylight broke, so I climbed up into a big cotton-tree and hid myself among the mass of creepers to rest. I had intended trying to reach a fort where I could obtain assistance, but on looking out of my hiding-place in the morning I saw a party of blacks, who were apparently searching for me. I therefore crouched down among the creepers, where, as I was pretty well worn out, I fell asleep. At night I again pushed on, hoping that the blacks had given up the pursuit. I had reached the hill below which you saw me, when another day broke, and I had once more to hide myself for fear of being discovered. On looking out next morning I saw your ship approaching, and though I thought it probable that the blacks might still be looking for me, I hurried down in the hope that you would see me and would go to the assistance of my friends. But two days have passed since I left them, and I know not what may have happened in the meantime."

Norman Foley's anxiety was greatly increased by the account given him by Archie Sandys, for he it was who had so happily escaped destruction. He observed the lieutenant's evident agitation, though he might not have suspected the cause. Gerald plied him with questions, and drew forth many particulars of the siege and defence of Bellevue.

On reaching the ship Norman Foley introduced Archie Sandys to the commander, who, learning from him the state of affairs at Bellevue, ordered the sails to be filled, and the Champion under every stitch of canvas she could carry stood along the coast. As she approached that part where, by Archie's account, Bellevue was situated, a look-out was kept for a fitting landing-place for the boats. They had all been got ready for lowering. The marines, under their sergeant, and a party of blue jackets armed with muskets, pistols, and cutlasses, were ordered to be prepared to go in them with Mr Foley, Crowhurst, Mr Dobbs the boatswain, and Gerald; Archie Sandys was of course to accompany the expedition as a guide. On nearing the spot dense volumes of smoke were seen rolling along, driven by the wind, concealing the landscape from view.

Poor Norman was almost ready to give way to despair. His worst apprehensions were fulfilled. The savage blacks must have set the house on fire, and too probably its hapless inmates were destroyed. Many others on board thought as he did.

Gerald, who was looking out, however, suddenly exclaimed, "I see the top of the house above the smoke; the fire does not reach it. There is a flagstaff with two flags flying from it, though they are odd-looking ones."

"It is my belief that they are petticoats, or some female gear," exclaimed the master. "Yes, no doubt about it; the signal is pretty clear, it means females in distress. We'll soon help you, my pretty maidens, whoever you are."

Mr Foley had taken the glass. After carefully surveying the spot he began to breathe more freely. Yes, it was a wood on fire, some way below the house, and that might still be holding out. The flags, too, he discovered, were light muslin dresses, and he very likely suspected even then that one belonged to Ellen. It did not require that, however, to make him spring forward with even greater eagerness than he had more than once displayed when setting forth on a cutting-out expedition. He took the lead, the launch and pinnace following. He allowed his crew to dash on ahead of the other boats, for as they approached the shore rapid firing was heard. Even now the house was being attacked, and Archie had mentioned the scarcity of ammunition. Should there be any delay they might be too late to save its inmates. The thick smoke had concealed their approach, as it had the ship, from the view of the blacks as also from those in the house. The former, indeed, not expecting to be interfered with from the side of the sea, had not turned their eyes in that direction.

Norman had time to land, and with the assistance of Archie, who pointed out the different localities to form his plan of proceeding. It was to move to the right just outside the burning wood, then to charge up the hill under cover of the smoke and attack the enemy on the flank, so that their shot might not be directed towards the house. The other boats appeared to him to be pulling very slowly, but they arrived at last, and a small party of marines quickly formed with the blue jackets on either hand. The orders were given in a low voice, Norman and Archie leading in Indian file, and at a double quick march. They proceeded a short way along the shore, and then facing about they rushed up the hill, uttering a true English cheer. The blacks raised a cry of alarm. Those who with burning brands in their hands were attempting to mount the ladders let them drop, tumbling head over heels to the ground. Their companions scampered off, many throwing down their muskets. Their leader Cudjoe held his, and sullenly retired, but as several shots came whizzing past him, he increased his pace, till he began to run as fast as the rest, and the whole multitude took to their heels, shrieking with alarm, like a herd of swine, tumbling over each other down the hill, some making for the opposite height, others rushing along the valley.

The marines, led by their sergeant, charged after them till the greater number of the fleet-footed savages had disappeared.

Archie Sandys accompanied the master with one party of blue jackets in pursuit of Cudjoe, but the black leader succeeded in reaching a wood, and was soon lost to sight among the trees. Several negroes, however, were overtaken. Seeing that they could not escape, they fell on their knees, begging for mercy. The seamen were about to cut them down when Archie recognised two or three slaves who had saved his life, and throwing himself before them intreated the seamen to desist. The master, who had fortunately heard his account, understanding his motive, restrained the sailors, and the lives of the poor blacks were spared.

"I don't forget the mercy you showed me," said Archie, "but I wish you had managed to run off." Then, turning to the master, he begged that he would allow the blacks to escape. "If they are made prisoners I may be unable to save their lives," he said.

"Well, then, let us go and look after some others," exclaimed Mr Billhook. "Tell them to show leg-bail and we'll not follow them."

The kind-hearted seamen fully appreciating Archie's object were well pleased to let the poor trembling wretches escape, and led by the master, they pursued some others who had still retained their muskets, and who proved to be Coromantees, the most warlike and savage of the blacks engaged in the insurrection. Several of these attempting to make a stand were captured.

The shouts of the gallant band of seamen and marines had been heard by the garrison, and their movements and the flight of the blacks seen from the windows. The doors being thrown open, the greater number rushed out to join them in the pursuit of the fugitives, but their ammunition being expended they were unable to fire a shot, and the blacks happily for themselves were soon beyond the reach of the whites, or they would have received less merciful treatment than the blue jackets were inclined to show them. As it was, indeed, the British officers had some difficulty in restraining several of the drivers from cutting down the prisoners who had been secured. In a few minutes not a single black, except those who had been made prisoners and a few who lay dead or wounded on the ground, was to be seen.

Mr Foley, having ordered the recall to be sounded, hurried with Gerald to the house, where the first person they met was Mr Ferris, who at once recognised them. Taking them by the hands, he thanked them with tears in his eyes as the deliverers of his daughter and himself and their friends.

"You have rendered me for ever your debtor," said the merchant; "indeed, it is impossible to repay you."

Norman, making a fitting answer, eagerly inquired for Ellen.

"She is there," replied her father; and the words were scarcely out of his mouth before Norman sprang forward, and there he saw Ellen standing, somewhat pale indeed, though the colour began to mount rapidly to her cheeks, with her hands extended to greet him, her trembling limbs, however, preventing her from moving towards him as her feelings might have prompted. He had good reason to be satisfied that absence had not cooled her affection. Mr Twigg kindly allowed them to enjoy each other's society without interruption. Perhaps Norman would have remained longer than his duty ought to have permitted him, had not the sound of hearty cheers reached their ears, and he and Ellen on going into the hall were informed by Mr Ferris that a party of white men were seen coming over the hill who were thus welcomed by the garrison. Ellen now first heard of the escape of Archie Sandys, who had been heartily welcomed by all hands, among whom he was a universal favourite. He might before have had his suspicions as to the interest which Lieutenant Foley entertained for Miss Ferris. When he saw them together, he had no doubt about the matter, and the slight hopes he had cherished vanished for ever.

Mr Twigg in the meantime had dispatched people to the yam ground, and to every part of the neighbourhood where provisions could be found, though the blacks had consumed most of the roots and fruits as well as the animals they could lay hands on near the house. Water had also been brought up from the well to supply the thirsty inmates, while the sergeant of marines had drawn up his men, as he said, to observe the enemy, lest they should venture on another attack. That, however, did not appear probable, as numbers were seen flying at full speed towards the mountains to escape the vengeance of their masters, which they knew full well was likely to overtake them.

Jack Pemberton and the party from Walton now appeared.

"We hurried off as soon as Quashie arrived," said Jack, "but he with a misadventure, and was captured by some rebels who, though they could make nothing of him, detained him, and he had no little difficulty in making his escape. On our way we were overtaken by a messenger from Major Malcolm, who is advancing with a strong force, and depend upon it he will give the rebels a fearful drubbing if he overtakes them."

"We are much obliged to you, Jack, for your good intentions, but had not the party from the ship arrived in the nick of time, you would in all probability have found the house a heap of ruins, and we all burned to cinders in the middle of it," answered Mr Twigg.

No one welcomed Archie Sandys more cordially than did Lieutenant Belt, who had greatly admired the coolness and courage he had displayed. He had now also a fellow feeling for him, as he quickly perceived that the sailor officer had forestalled him in the affections of Miss Ferris.

The family at Bellevue, notwithstanding the fearful danger they had gone through, soon recovered their spirits. Such provisions as could be hastily collected were cooked, and, as there was a good store of wine and other articles of luxury, an ample repast was soon prepared for their guests.

While they were seated round the table, it was announced that a body of soldiers were seen coming from the west, with several persons on horseback; and in a short time Major Malcolm and two other officers galloped up to the door. The expression of his countenance when Mr Twigg went out to meet him, and as he surveyed the havoc which had been made around the house, and saw the fearful danger to which the inmates had been exposed, showed how much he felt. He condemned himself for having quitted Bellevue, although he had gone at Miss Pemberton's express wish; but when he entered the room and saw her eyes turned towards him, and the slight tinge which rose to her generally pale cheeks, he knew that she, at all events, did not blame him. His stay could be but very brief, for as soon as the forces who were coming up arrived, he must push forward in pursuit of the rebel blacks.

"It is painful work, without honour or glory, and yet duty demands that it must be done," he observed to Miss Pemberton. "I would that others had to do it."

Mr Twigg did not fail to expatiate largely on the gallant conduct of Lieutenant Belt, and the important service he had rendered them. "It was indeed a happy day for us when you came here, for, had it not been for him, I believe that none of us would now be remaining alive; and I therefore propose the health of the hero of Bellevue, for such he deserves to be called."

Every one corroborated Mr Twigg's account, and the gallant lieutenant made a very neat and appropriate speech.

"As he is unfit to march, if you desire it, Mr Twigg, I will leave him here in command of a detachment sufficient to protect the house," said Major Malcolm, "as probably the marines and sailors may be required on board their ship, to render aid in other directions."

Norman Foley was not especially obliged to the major for this offer, as he had thought it possible that he might again have been sent on shore in command of a party to protect the house. He had now, however, no excuse for remaining; he was therefore compelled, very unwillingly, to order his men to prepare for embarking.

"You will write to Norah, Miss Ferris," said Gerald, as he was wishing good-bye. "Tell her all about me, and say that I hope to see Owen Massey when he comes back again in the Ouzel Galley; and also tell her that we had a brush with, we believe, that same rascally buccaneer which attacked the old ship on her voyage out, when you were on board. The fellow escaped us, but we shall keep a sharp look-out for him and take him one of these days. I suppose that we shall remain on this northern coast for some time, and then go back to Port Royal, with lots of prizes, I have no doubt, and perhaps the pirate among them."

Ellen and Norman had to part, but they expected ere long to meet again at Kingston, to which place Mr Ferris intended returning as soon as the country was considered safe for travelling.

As the evening was approaching, Lieutenant Foley had to hurry his men to the boats, after a friendly parting with Archie Sandys. He had another reason for making haste, for he did not altogether like the look of the sky.

"What do you think of the weather, Mr Dobbs?" he asked.

"Coming on nasty, to my mind," answered the boatswain, casting his eye round the horizon. "Whether it is one of them hurricanes which blow in those seas, or only a common gale, I can't just say; but the sooner we are aboard, and the ship can get a good offing, the better."

Crowhurst, who had been some time before in the West Indies, was of the boatswain's opinion, and thought that they had already delayed too long; but, then, he was not, like the lieutenant, in love, and had found nothing of especial interest on shore.

The commander was highly pleased at hearing of the service his officers and men had performed, and did not blame the lieutenant for remaining on shore so long. Indeed, he observed, "Had no other force appeared to protect the house, I should have considered it right to send you, with the marines and a few seamen, back to guard it, in case the rebels should return."

Norman heartily wished that Jack Pemberton with his friends, and Major Malcolm with his troops, had marched after the rebels, instead of coming to Bellevue.

The commander had observed the signs of a change of weather, and by the master's advice, who felt sure that a heavy gale would soon be blowing, though he could not say from what quarter it might come, the ship's head was put off shore, so as to gain as good an offing as possible before it was down upon them. The wind increased, and though the Champion could still carry her whole canvas, it was necessary to keep a bright look-out against a sudden squall, all hands remaining on deck, ready to shorten sail at a moment's notice.



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

THE CHAMPION IN A HURRICANE—HOVE ON HER BEAM-ENDS—LOSS OF MAIN AND MIZEN-MASTS—RUNS ON BEFORE THE GALE—STRIKES ON A REEF—AN ISLAND DISCOVERED AT DAYBREAK—BOATS AND STORES GOT OUT—THE CREW REACH THE SHORE—WATER FOUND—SITE FOR A FORT CHOSEN—STORES AND GUNS LANDED—A GALE—SHIP GOES TO PIECES—LAUNCH LOST—A VESSEL SEEN—CHASED—ESCAPES— FORT FINISHED—A SPANISH MAN-OF-WAR APPROACHES—ATTACKS THE FORT— SPANIARDS DEFEATED—A GALE—SPANISH SHIP LOST—VAIN ATTEMPTS TO SAVE THE CROW.

The Champion was standing across the channel between Jamaica and Cuba. The night came on very dark. The wind, though blowing fresh from the north-west, did not increase as much as had been expected, and it was hoped that the ship would claw off the shore and obtain a good offing before the morning. The topgallantsails had been handed, and as much canvas was set as she could carry. The master turned many an anxious glance over the quarter, where he could still dimly discern the outline of the land. The ship was heeling over till her lee bulwarks were smothered in the fast-rising sea. Still the commander was unwilling to shorten sail while she could bear what she was then carrying. It was impossible to say from which direction the wind might next blow. It might come from the northward, and if so, she would have the shore dead under her lee, and, should her masts go, might be driven helplessly towards it. Another reef was taken in the topsails, but still she heeled over to the wind more than the commander liked, notwithstanding which she was evidently making considerable leeway.

At length there came a lull; the ship righted, and for some time continued to stand up better than heretofore to her canvas. The appearance of the sky, however, did not improve. Dark masses of clouds flew across it, gradually thickening till a dense canopy hung over the ocean without any discernible break. The wind howled and whistled, and the sea rose more and more.

"We'll heave the ship to, Mr Billhook," said the commander. "We have got, I should think, a sufficient offing, and we must return to the shore as soon as the weather will allow."

"If you will take my advice, sir, we will rather stand on for some time longer. We are perhaps nearer the coast than we may fancy, and we might find it a hard matter to get off again, should we discover in the morning that we have been drifting towards it."

"Keep her as she is going, then," said the commander, who thought that the master was probably right.

Soon after this the wind somewhat lulled, and the ship looked up more to the northward than she had hitherto done, showing that the wind had shifted a point or two. Even the master thought that the weather was improving. The watch below was ordered to turn in and some of the officers went to their berths.

It had just gone two bells in the morning watch, when a sound like a thunder-clap was heard, and Gerald, who was in his hammock, was nearly thrown out of it. He felt the ship heeling over to starboard. He and all those below, slipping into their trousers, sprang on deck. The ship was on her beam-ends, the water washing half-way up to the coamings of the hatchways.

"Hard up with the helm! let fly the main and mizen-topsail sheets!" cried the commander; but the ship did not rise or answer the helm. "Cut away the mizen-mast!" he shouted; and the carpenter and boatswain, armed with axes, came aft, and while some of the men severed the rigging, a few blows served to send the mast, with its spars and fluttering sails, over the side. At the same moment the mainmast, which must already have been sprung when the hurricane struck the ship, fell after it, and the seamen immediately commenced hacking away at the rigging to clear the wreck. The ship thus relieved, rose to an even keel, and now feeling the power of the helm, away she flew before the gale.

The master hurried to the binnacle. The wind had happily shifted to the westward, and though blowing with far greater fury than before, the ship was in less peril than she would have been had it continued in its former quarter. The yards were now squared and preventer backstays set up, and the carpenter, having examined the mast, reported that it was secure. The hands were sent to close-reef the fore-topsail; but even though thus reduced, it was as much sail as the ship could carry. On she flew, free from the wreck of both the masts, which it was impossible to secure. Every effort was made to secure the remaining mast, on which so much depended. Some spare spars still remained, with which, when the weather moderated, jury-masts could be rigged; but with the heavy sea now running, nothing could be done. The wind kept veering about, sometimes to the southward and west, at others getting back to the north-west.

"Provided it does not shift to the northward, we shall have room to run on till it blows itself out," observed the master. But there was no security that it would hold in the most favourable quarter.

The hurricane blew harder and harder—for such it might almost be considered, though not one of those fearful storms which so frequently devastate the islands of the Caribbean Sea. The rain, too, beat down furiously, and the spoondrift in thick showers flew off the summits of the seas, shrouding the ship in a dense mist, through which no objects, had any been near, could have been discerned. At present, the chief fear was lest the ship should run foul of any other hove to, for none could cross her course under sail.

On she flew. Daylight returned, but the view around was almost as obscure as during the night. The master consulted the chart. He would have wished to haul to the southward, but the sea was running too high and the wind blowing too furiously for that to be done; neither, in consequence of the loss of her after-rails, could she be hove to. Her only safe course was to fly before it. Except the close-reefed topsail, no other canvas was set. The Champion had by this time got to the eastward of Cuba, and was compelled to run on far away from the coast her commander wished to reach.

Another day and night passed by, the wind blowing with scarcely less fury than at first. The well was sounded, but it was found that the ship had made no unusual amount of water. If she could steer clear of rocks and reefs, the only other thing to be apprehended was that, while in her crippled condition, she might fall in with an enemy's ship of equal or superior force. Numerous reefs and rocks however existed, and as it had been impossible to take an observation, or even to keep an exact dead reckoning, in consequence of the frequent shifting of the wind, the master confessed that he was not certain of her position. She was, he supposed, approaching the southern end of the dangerous Bahama Islands, known as the Great Caicos. The island of Inagua, it was hoped, was passed, but even that was not certain.

Another night was coming on. All on board hoped that the gale would blow itself out, but as the darkness increased, it gave no signs of doing so. A sharp look-out was of course kept, ahead, and the cables were ranged ready to let go the anchors should any danger be seen.

Except when wearied out, in order to snatch a short rest, few of the officers or men had gone below. Most of them were collected on deck, when a voice from forward shouted out, "Breakers on the starboard bow!" and almost immediately afterwards their roar was heard, and the white foam could be seen dashing up over a dark reef. The helm was put a couple of spokes to windward; the ship flew on. Scarcely had the danger been passed, when the wind fell and the sea became rapidly calmer.

"Has not the sea gone down with wonderful quickness?" observed Gerald to Nat Kiddle, who was standing near him, both of them trying to peer out through the darkness.

"I suppose it is because we are protected by the reef we passed," answered Nat. "I only hope we shall not meet with others."

"Breakers ahead!" shouted the look-out from forward.

"Starboard the helm, hard a-starboard!" cried the commander.

The ship came to the wind, and as she did so the white foam was seen rising directly under her lee. The threatened danger was passed, although so narrowly that her keel grated over a rock below it.

"Stand ready to let go the best bower!" was the next order heard.

"Hands aloft to furl the fore-topsail!" Scarcely had the commander uttered the words than a terrific crashing sound was heard. The ship had struck a sunken reef. The way she had on her forced her over it.

"Sound the well, Mr O'Rourke," cried the commander.

Before, however, the carpenter could obey the order, the ship again struck and remained fixed, apparently on a reef. Soundings were immediately taken ahead and astern, and from the small depth, of water round her, it was too clear that she had been driven hopelessly on a broad reef. The sea dashed against her, sending the spray in dense showers over her decks; but it was evident that there were reefs outside which greatly protected her, and that there was no immediate danger of her being dashed to pieces, or the crew losing their lives. The darkness prevented any object from being seen round her, except black rocks and the snow-white foam which flew off from the summits of the seas. The crew behaved, as well-disciplined British seamen always do under such circumstances, with perfect coolness. The men who were going aloft to furl the fore-topsail were ordered down, and the commander directed the carpenter to cut away the remaining mast, as it threatened every instant to fall. A few strokes of the axe brought it down over the forecastle, the wind carrying it in that direction.

"I fear the old bark is lost," said Gerald to Nat Kiddle. "I little expected to see such an ending of her."

"No doubt about it," answered Nat. "The water is rushing like a mill-sluice into the hold, and if it wasn't that she is firm on the rocks, she would not have many minutes to swim."

"Faith, I don't think she's swimming now," said Gerald.

"No," answered Nat; "but she is not going down, and that is of considerable consequence to us. When daylight comes I suppose we shall find out where we are. I hope that land is not far off, or we may have to make a voyage on a raft, as the boats won't hold us all."

Norman Foley's chief feeling was disappointment at the probability of not being able to return to Jamaica for an indefinite period of time. The distance was too great to perform with any safety in boats; indeed, it was doubtful, without masts to hoist her out, whether the launch could be got into the water.

As other shipwrecked seamen have done, all wished for day to relieve their anxieties. At present it was impossible to decide what to do. Gradually the ship became steadier. As the sea broke over her less frequently, the master was of opinion that the tide was falling, and that she had been driven on shore at high water.

The commander and his first lieutenant accompanied the carpenter round the ship to ascertain more particularly her condition. They quickly came to the conclusion that she was hopelessly wrecked. "The first thing to be done, then, is to get the stores from the hold while the tide is out, and to save the ammunition," observed the commander. "Should we reach the shore, we must not leave ourselves defenceless."

The crew were accordingly at once ordered to set to work, and beef, pork, flour, and other stores were hoisted up, while the powder was got out of the magazine and placed in the commander's cabin with a guard over it.

Daylight found all hands thus busily employed. The wind had gone down and the sea was perfectly smooth. The commander was on deck when the first light streaks of dawn appeared in the sky. As the light increased, he discerned a line of cocoa-nut trees rising out of one of the low islands, known as keys in those seas, scarcely half a mile off, while in the intermediate space were numerous dark rocks, the upper portions of reefs which extended on every side. Between them, however, were wide spaces of calm water, so that there would be nothing to stop the boats from reaching the island. The satisfactory intelligence was soon made known through the ship. The smaller boats were at once lowered, while the carpenter and boatswain set to work to erect shears for hoisting out the launch. As soon as the boats were ready, the commander ordered them to be loaded with provisions, and canvas for tents, and a portion of the powder, and they were sent off under the command of the second lieutenant, with Gerald and Kiddle. The two latter were directed to remain in charge of half a dozen of the men, while the boats were immediately to return. In the mean while a raft was commenced, to assist in transporting the guns and stores, all of which the commander intended if possible to save. The crew were so busily employed that they had no time to indulge in apprehensions for the future, should they have entertained any.

The commander's chief anxiety was to ascertain if water existed on the island. Without it they would be unable to support themselves, beyond a short period, when that on board was exhausted. The midshipmen were accordingly directed to search for water immediately on their landing. Away they pulled, their spirits scarcely lowered even by the loss of their ship. As they looked back at her as she lay on the rocks, with her masts gone and heeling over on one side, Gerald, however, exclaimed—

"Poor old girl, there you are, and there you will leave your bones. I don't suppose you care much about it, though you don't find it as pleasant as bounding over the heaving waves, as the poets say."

"We shall not find it so pleasant, either, living on that sandy-looking island ahead there," observed Kiddle.

As they drew near the island its appearance improved. They could see a variety of trees and bushes, and that the ground rose beyond them. Further in the interior the green grass, which here and there was visible, gave promise of an abundance of water, so that they should not have, as they at first feared, to suffer from thirst. In a little bay, with rocks rising on one side, they found a convenient landing-place, towards which the boats were steered. The goods were quickly got on shore, and carried up to a level spot under the shade of some cocoa-nut trees.

Here, as soon as Mr Foley had shoved off, Gerald and Nat set to work with their men to put up the tents in which the provisions were to be stored. Gerald then, taking one of the crew with him, set off to look for water as he had been directed. The island appeared to be scarcely half a mile across, but it was considerably longer. A somewhat elevated ridge ran down the centre, from which, before he had gone far, he saw an ample stream gushing forth into a pool, after which it ran in a meandering course towards the side of the island where they had landed. Having made this discovery, they returned to the camp. Soon afterwards the boats came back with some men and a further supply of provisions. He then learned that the commander intended to land the guns.

The work continued all day long, and towards evening the boats returned, towing a large raft on which several of the guns were placed. The only bad news was that, in trying to get the launch into the water, she had been severely damaged, and as it would have occupied time to tow her on shore full of water, she had been left anchored near the ship. About a third of the crew, with the marines, under charge of Mr Foley, had now landed; the commander and the remainder, with a portion of the officers, still staying on board. Crowhurst, who came with the raft, said that there was no danger, and that the commander intended to be the last man to leave the ship.

As there was abundance of wood, fires were lighted, provisions cooked, and the shipwrecked crew prepared to make themselves as happy as they could. Some, indeed, when they had knocked off work, amused themselves by playing leapfrog on the sands, and running races; and the black cook, who had brought his fiddle, beginning to scrape away, set the whole dancing. At last they were ordered to turn in, and though it was not likely that any enemy was near, sentries were stationed round the camp, according to man-o'-war fashion.

Norman Foley walked up and down on the beach long after his men had gone to sleep. The boats and raft had returned to the ship. He cast his eye round to note the appearance of the weather. Should it again come on to blow, her position would be one of considerable danger, and those on board might have great difficulty in saving their lives. Should the boats be destroyed, he and those with him would scarcely be better off without the means of escaping. They might have to remain there for weeks or months, for no vessel was likely willingly to approach so dangerous a neighbourhood. The provisions, though sufficient to last for some time, must ultimately be exhausted, as would be the ammunition, with which birds might be shot. Then what would be the consequence? "It is useless to indulge in such thoughts," he said to himself at last. "With a few hours' rest I shall feel more cheerful." He did the wisest thing to be done under such circumstances—he went into his tent and fell fast asleep.

On rising the next morning, he saw the raft and boats again approaching. Mr Tarwig came in command of them, with directions from the commander to choose a site for erecting a battery on the island with their guns. "The commander thinks it probable that the Spaniards, when they find out that we are here, will attack us for the sake of making us prisoners, and the sooner we are prepared for them the better," he said to Lieutenant Foley.

While the other officers and men were engaged in landing the stores which the boats had brought, the two lieutenants walked together across the island, and then followed the rise which ran along the centre on the eastern side. Although there were many reefs on that side, the island was more approachable than on the west, where the Champion had been wrecked, and after a careful survey they fixed on a spot below which it appeared that a ship might approach the shore. Consequently it was the spot which an enemy would probably choose for landing with boats.

The lieutenants were not long in marking out the site of their proposed fort. The ground was here covered more thickly than, in other places with trees, some of considerable height, which would effectually mask it from the sea. The island was of a width which would enable the guns in the fort to defend it on both sides, as some might be so placed as to command their own landing-place, should an enemy attempt to come on shore on that side. Having formed their plan, they returned to the camp. Here all hands were still busily employed in getting the guns on shore. The difficulty was to drag them up to the site chosen for the fort. Their own carriages, which had been also landed, were of no use for this purpose; but the carpenter suggested that rollers should be placed under them, and, ropes being secured to the breeches, they could be dragged up by the crew.

While the first lieutenant returned to the ship, Norman Foley directed the carpenter to form his proposed rollers, and to try what could be done with one of the guns. Some of the rigging had already been brought on shore on the raft, and there was an abundance of ropes for the purpose.

The carpenter and his crew were not long in getting all things ready. Four rollers were placed under one of the guns, and a party were told off to take charge of four others, while the rest of the crew laid hold of the towlines. The boatswain sounded his whistle, and off they set. It was pretty hard work to draw a heavy gun over the soft sand, but British seamen are not to be defeated when they put their shoulders to an undertaking. The gun was started amid cheers from the crew, and it began to move forward faster and faster. The moment one roller was released it was carried ahead, and at length the gun was dragged up to hard ground. Now, however, the tug of war began. Though the ground was hard, it was rough and uphill; but the inequalities were cleared away, and the gun was got some distance up the bank. It became evident, however, at length that the whole strength of the crew would be required to get it up to the site of the fort, and the lieutenant ordered the men to knock off, and to bring another gun up. This was soon done in the same fashion. The seamen enjoyed the work as if it had been given to them as an amusement.

Thus six guns which had been landed were got a part of the way towards their destination. Parties of men were next harnessed to the gun carriages, a boatswain's mate or one of the other seamen seating himself on each—the former with pipe in mouth, and with a long stick in his hand, with which he pretended to drive his team, cheering and shouting in high glee. One of the carriages, however, as the men were running along with it, capsized and shot its occupant out sprawling on the sand, greatly to the amusement of his shipmates. It is wonderful what an amount of work can be got through by seamen when they are allowed to do it in their own way, and make an amusement of the severest labour.

It would still require the raft and boats to make very many trips before all the guns and provisions and stores could be landed. The commander wisely sent off a proportion of each, so that, should bad weather come on and the ship go to pieces, a certain amount of all things necessary might be saved. The weather, however, continued favourable, though the stormy period of the year had now come on. All the guns and provisions, and a considerable quantity of the stores, were at length landed. The carpenter had of course taken good care to bring his tools. He proposed building a vessel out of the wreck. The commander approved of his suggestion, and it was arranged that they should return the next day, and endeavour to procure timber sufficient for the purpose.

The commander had hitherto not left the ship. The last of the crew who had remained with him were sent into the boat. His own gig was alongside. With a heavy heart he hauled down the flag, which had hitherto been kept flying on a temporary flagstaff, secured to the stump of the foremast. After looking round his dismantled ship, he descended into the boat.

"Shove off," he said, and his voice as he spoke appeared to have lost its usual cheerful ring.

He cast another fond look at her as she lay bilged on the cruel rocks. He had reason to be thankful that not a life had been lost, and that it was from no carelessness or want of good seamanship that she had been driven on shore. Had she struck one of the outer reefs, where would he and his gallant crew now be? Probably not one would have escaped. The sky as he looked westward had again assumed a threatening aspect.

"We shall have another gale before long, I suspect," he observed to Gerald, who had brought the gig for him. "It may not do us on shore much harm, although it may blow down our tents if we don't stay them up well, but the poor ship—I fear that her days are numbered. A heavy sea rolling in here would soon knock her to pieces. Give way, my lads, and overtake the raft; we may assist in towing it, and the sooner it reaches the shore the better."

Fortunately by this time everything of value had been landed from the ship. The cabins had been stripped of their furniture, even to the bedding; the men's hammocks, and every article belonging to them, had been brought off. There was an abundance of water, and there was no probability of their provisions running short for some time to come.

Scarcely had the boats and raft been unloaded and the stores carried up to the camp, than the sea began to roll in with much greater force than hitherto, and as the sun went down the white breakers appeared on every side, like horses' manes waving in the wind, above the darkening waters. The commander was received with hearty cheers by his crew.

"Now, my lads," he said, "I intend to turn this island into a man-of-war, and although we cannot get under way—for if we could we would soon run her up to Port Royal harbour—we will hold her against all enemies, whoever they may be, who may wish to make a prize of us. I intend to maintain the same discipline as heretofore, and I expect that you will still remain the well-ordered crew of whom I have always been proud."

The captain's address was received, as he expected it would be, with hearty cheers, and several voices among the men cried out, "We'll stick by you, sir, and you won't have to be ashamed of us."

Several fires had been lighted, round which the men were collected, cooking their suppers in a fashion in which Jack especially delights when he has the chance; but the rising wind soon made it necessary to put them all out, for fear of their setting the bushes and trees in flames, or lest a wandering spark might find its way to the tent in which the powder was stored. This, by Mr Foley's forethought, had been erected some way from the camp, and a sentry placed over it. The next thing to be done was to secure the tents with preventer-stays, as the seamen called them. By this means, furiously as the wind began to blow, not a tent was capsized. Being composed of sails, they were much lower than ordinary tents, and thus much less exposed than such would have been. They resembled indeed gipsy tents, though on a larger scale. It was fortunate for the shipwrecked crew that they had been erected in good time, for as the night drew on the rain came down in torrents, and would have drenched them to the skin. The wind increased, howling and whistling amid the cocoa-nut trees; while the sea, as it dashed with increasing fury on the shore, uttered continuous and never-ceasing roars, echoed, so it seemed, by the breakers on the more distant reefs. The commander, who had scarcely closed his eyes on board, shared a tent with his lieutenants and the surgeon. His chief care, for the present was over, and he at length fell fast asleep.

"It is a hard trial for him, poor man," observed the surgeon, as he and the two lieutenants sat at their table at the further end of the tent. "Though it may not be the commander's fault when he loses his ship, he must feel it dreadfully."

"Somewhat as you feel when you lose a patient, Mac," observed Mr Tarwig.

"Nay, nay," answered the doctor. "I have a better chance of getting fresh patients, whereas the captain who loses his ship is often looked upon as unfortunate, and may chance not to get another—"

"That he may have the opportunity of losing her, doctor, you would say, just as you would desire to have the chance of losing some fresh patients."

"You're hard on me, Tarwig," said the doctor. "My desire is to cure them. And just remember that men's lives are not in our hands: all we can do is to employ such knowledge as we possess. That may be but little, I confess, for I tell you our ignorance is great. If I pride myself on anything, it is that I am aware that I know next to nothing, and that is what many fools do not."

"Well said, Mac," observed Norman. "I always had a respect for you, and I have a greater now, and shall have perfect confidence in your skill, if I should have again to come to you for assistance. I believe I owe my life to you when I was wounded, as far as I owe it to any human being."

"Nay, nay," again said the doctor, laughing. "You owe it, to my thinking, to a fair young lady who looked after you so carefully when we put you on shore at Waterford—for you were in a bad way then, let me tell you, though I did not say so at the time."