The Pirate

Before Hawkhurst had collected the men and ordered them on board of the schooner, as usual in those latitudes, it had fallen a perfect calm.

Where was Francisco during this scene of blood? He had remained in the cabin of the schooner. Cain had more than once gone down to him, to persuade him to come on deck and assist at the boarding of the Portuguese, but in vain—his sole reply to the threats and solicitations of the pirate was—

“Do with me as you please—I have made up my mind—you know I do not fear death—as long as I remain on board of this vessel, I will take no part in your atrocities. If you do respect my mother’s memory, suffer her son to seek an honest and honourable livelihood.”

The words of Francisco were ringing in the ears of Cain as he walked up and down on the quarter-deck of the Portuguese vessel, and, debased as he was, he could not help thinking that the youth was his equal in animal, and his superior in mental, courage—he was arguing in his own mind upon the course he should pursue with respect to Francisco, when Hawkhurst made his appearance on deck, followed by his men, who dragged up six individuals who had escaped the massacre. These were the bishop; his niece, a Portuguese girl; her attendant; the supercargo of the vessel; a sacristan; and a servant of the ecclesiastic; they were hauled along the deck and placed in a row before the captain, who cast his eye upon them in severe scrutiny. The bishop and his niece looked round, the one proudly meeting the eye of Cain, although he felt that his hour was come; the other carefully avoiding his gaze, and glancing round to ascertain whether there were any other prisoners, and if so, if her betrothed was amongst them; but her eye discovered not what she sought—it was met only by the bearded faces of the pirate-crew, and the blood which bespattered the deck.

She covered her face with her hands.

“Bring that man forward,” said Cain, pointing to the servant. “Who are you.”

“A servant of my lord the bishop.”

“And you?” continued the captain.

“A poor sacristan attending upon my lord the bishop.”

“And you?” cried he to a third.

“The supercargo of this vessel.”

“Put him aside, Hawkhurst!”

“Do you want the others?” inquired Hawkhurst significantly.

“No.”

Hawkhurst gave a signal to some of the pirates, who led away the sacristan and the servant. A stifled shriek and a heavy plunge in the water were heard a few seconds after. During this time the pirate had been questioning the supercargo as to the contents of the vessel, and her stowage, when he was suddenly interrupted by one of the pirates, who in a hurried voice, stated that the ship had received several shot between wind and water, and was sinking fast. Cain, who was standing on the side of the carronade with his sword in his hand, raised his arm and struck the pirate a blow on the head with the hilt, which, whether intended or not, fractured his skull, and the man fell upon the deck.

“Take that, babbler! for your intelligence; if these men are obstinate, we may have worked for nothing.”

The crew, who felt the truth of their captain’s remark, did not appear to object to the punishment inflicted, and the body of the man was dragged away.

“What mercy can we expect from those who show no mercy even to each other?” observed the bishop, lifting his eyes to heaven.

“Silence!” cried Cain, who now interrogated the supercargo as to the contents of the hold—the poor man answered as well as he could—“the plate! the money for the troops—where are they?”

“The money for the troops is in the spirit-room, but of the plate I know nothing; it is in some of the cases belonging to my lord the bishop.”

“Hawkhurst! down at once into the spirit-room, and see to the money; in the mean time I will ask a few questions of this reverend father.”

“And the supercargo—do you want him any more?”

“No; he may go.”

The poor man fell down on his knees in thankfulness at what he considered his escape: he was dragged away by the pirates, and, it is scarcely necessary to add that in a minute his body was torn to pieces by the sharks, who, scenting their prey from a distance, were now playing in shoals around the two vessels.

The party on the quarter-deck were now (unperceived by the captain) joined by Francisco, who, hearing from the Krouman, Pompey, that there were prisoners still on board, and amongst them two females, had come over to plead the cause of mercy.

“Most reverend father,” observed Cain, after a short pause, “you have many articles of value in this vessel?”

“None,” replied the bishop, “except this poor girl; she is, indeed, beyond price, and will, I trust, soon be an angel in heaven.”

“Yet is this world, if what you preach be true, a purgatory which must be passed through previous to arriving there, and that girl may think death a blessing compared to what she may expect if you refuse to tell me what I would know. You have good store of gold and silver ornaments for your churches—where are they?”

“They are among the packages intrusted to my care.”

“How many may you have in all?”

“A hundred, if not more.”

“Will you deign to inform me where I may find what I require?”

“The gold and silver are not mine, but are the property of that God to whom they have been dedicated,” replied the bishop.

“Answer quickly; no more subterfuge, good sir. Where is it to be found?”

“I will not tell, thou blood-stained man; at least; in this instance, there shall be disappointment, and the sea shall swallow up those earthly treasures to obtain which thou hast so deeply imbrued thy hands. Pirate! I repeat it, I will not tell.”

“Seize that girl, my lads!” cried Cain; “she is yours, do with her as you please.”

“Save me! oh, save me!” shrieked Teresa, clinging to the bishop’s robe.

The pirates advanced and laid hold of Teresa. Francisco bounded from where he stood behind the captain, and dashed away the foremost.

“Are you men?” cried he, as the pirates retreated. “Holy sir, I honour you. Alas! I cannot save you,” continued Francisco, mournfully. “Yet will I try. On my knees—by the love you bore my mother—by the affection you once bore me—do not commit this horrid deed. My lads!” continued Francisco, appealing to the pirates, “join with me and entreat your captain; ye are too brave, too manly, to injure the helpless and the innocent—above all, to shed the blood of a holy man, and of this poor trembling maiden.”

There was a pause—even the pirates appeared to side with Francisco, though none of them dared to speak. The muscles of the captain’s face quivered with emotion, but from what source could not be ascertained.

At this moment the interest of the scene was heightened. The girl who attended upon Teresa, crouched on her knees with terror, had been casting her fearful eyes upon the men who composed the pirate-crew; suddenly she uttered a scream of delight as she discovered among them one that she well knew. He was a young man, about twenty-five years of age, with little or no beard. He had been her lover in his more innocent days; and she, for more than a year, had mourned him as dead, for the vessel in which he sailed had never been heard of. It had been taken by the pirate, and, to save his life, he had joined the crew.

“Filippo! Filippo!” screamed the girl, rushing into his arms. “Mistress! it is Filippo; and we are safe.”

Filippo instantly recognised her: the sight of her brought back to his memory his days of happiness and of innocence; and the lovers were clasped in each other’s arms.

“Save them! spare them!—by the spirit of my mother! I charge you,” repeated Francisco, again appealing to the captain.

“May God bless thee, thou good young man!” said the bishop, advancing and placing his hand upon Francisco’s head.

Cain answered not; but his broad expanded chest heaved with emotion—when Hawkhurst burst into the group.

“We are too late for the money, captain: the water is already six feet above it. We must now try for the treasure.”

This intelligence appeared to check the current of the captain’s feelings.

“Now, in one word, sir,” said he to the bishop, “where is the treasure? Trifle not, or, by Heaven—!”

“Name not Heaven,” replied the bishop; “you have had my answer.”