[figure description] Page 081.[end figure description]

“A strong proof of Divine oversight in relation to human affairs, is
the entrapping of the guilty in the gins they have set for others. This
retributive system is daily presented to our knowledge. The most
perfect consummation of Divine justice on earth, is, no doubt, when the
criminal receives his just punishment, accidentally, by the hand of his
intended victim.”

A SURPRISE—VELASQUEZ AND HIS UNCLE—A BATTLE WITH DRAGOONS—
LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT—RETREAT—DEPARTURE OF THE
BUCCANEERS.

After Velasquez left the apartment of the insulted
and distressed maiden, her firmness and
womanly indignation forsook her with the object
that called it into existence, and burying her face
in the pillow of her father's couch, she wept bitterly.

“Daughter! Constanza! why do you not speak
to me?” called the old man in a tremulous voice,
his consciousness gradually returning. “My child
weeping! do not weep for me, my dear Constanza.
I—am—better—better—much—quite—quite well,”
he feebly articulated in a broken voice, which contradicted
his words. “It grieves me to see your

[figure description] Page 082.[end figure description]

eyes in tears; let me take your hand in mine, mí
álma! Tell me why those tears?” he inquired,
with parental kindness.

“Nay, I weep not, father,” replied the lovely girl,
brushing the fast falling tears from her eye-lashes;
“now that you are well, I am happy, very happy,”
and she laid affectionately her dimpled hand upon
her parent's fevered brow. “Oh, I have dreamed
a fearful dream, mí álma,” suddenly spoke her
father, starting with the recollection. “I dreamed
that Velasquez, with a guilty lip, sought to desecrate
your virgin cheek—”

“Nay, nay, my dear father, it was but a dream,”
interrupted the blushing girl, with a nervous rapidity
in the tones of her voice. “Will you not sleep?
the hour wears late, and I would see you sleep. Oh,
my father, try and sleep for your Constanza's sake—
live for your child,” she said, as a sense of her
loneliness, if he should be taken from her, coming
vividly to her mind, alarmed her.

“I will, I will, daughter. Do you not recollect,
sweet wife, when first I called you mine; you were
young, then, and beautiful; 'tis a great while ago,
and yet you are still as lovely as when crowned a
virgin bride. But methinks time has changed me
strangely! Why do you weep, Isabel? We are not
all alone. Our little daughter is with us. Shall
Constanza not be our earthly blessing? When I
am old and feeble will she not bless our pillow?”

“Father! father! oh, my dear, dear father! do
you not know your daughter? your own beloved
Constanza, who speaks to you?” cried the distressed
girl, as from his wandering language, the conviction
of her father's danger pressed upon her mind.

“Yes, my child,” said the aged parent, recovering
from his temporary alienation of mind, “you are
indeed Constanza!” and she kneeled by his pillow,
and was pressed affectionately to his bosom.

[figure description] Page 083.[end figure description]

Whilst father and daughter, locked in each other's
arms, presented this lovely and touching picture of
filial and parental love, a low murmuring, apparently
from the vault beneath, aroused them from
their endearing interchange of affection.

“Hist, child! what sounds are those?” She
raised her head and listened; and the ringing of
metal, and whispered words came up from below.

“Blessed Virgin! there is mischief near,” she
cried, in alarm.

“Jesu, Jesu Maria! my ingots! my gold!” exclaimed
the old man, clinging with the penurious
characteristic of opulent old age, to that wealth he
could no longer use. “There are robbers below!
my child, oh, my child, you are a beggar!”

With suddenly bestowed strength he sprang from
his couch, and seizing a pistol hanging near him,
he pressed with his thumb the knob from which he
took it, and a narrow door, hitherto concealed by
the peculiar architecture of the room, flew open, displaying
the winding stairway leading to the vault,
and at the same instant a light flashed full in his
haggard face from the aperture.

“We are discovered!” shouted a voice from below.

“It is the old man!” exclaimed Velasquez;
“finish him—dead men tell no tales;” and a click
of a pistol followed the words of the speaker.

“What mean you, sir Spaniard,” interposed the
deep, manly voice of the pirate; “would you do
murder? What fear you from a childish old man?
For shame! put up your pistol. Be lively, men,”
he added, with a quicker tone, “and convey this
last load to the men without.—Stand back, Señor
Velasquez,” he cried in a loud voice; “attempt to
pass this stair, and, by St. Barabbas! little service shall
this night's treachery do you. Cielos! what is this!
he exclaimed, as the blood spouted from the temples

[figure description] Page 084.[end figure description]

of the Spaniard, whilst the report of a pistol, levelled
by the old man at the scarcely seen marauders,
thundered in the close vault like the explosion of a
mine. The Spaniard sprung backward, and fell
dead upon the urns of silver, for which he had sold
both honour and life, with a fearful execration upon
his livid lip.

“Thus perish treachery by the hand of its victim,”
exclaimed the pirate. “This is likely to be
no small night's work; stand where you are Senor,”
he added, addressing Don Velasquez, who was
descending the stair-case, “there shall no harm
come nigh you; the man you had most to fear has
received the reward of his deeds. Stay your hand,
old man! do you dare me with steel?” he demanded,
as he struck up from his hands a glittering rapier,
he had seized to defend the stairway after
discharging the pistol.

“Mother of God! what noise is that without?
one—two—three, pistols! my signal! Ho, Carlos,
Matéo, what?” he emphatically demanded, as his
two assistants rushed past the old man and leaped
into the vault. “What, villains, what?” and his
voice rung through the passages.

“We are surprised, sir! The report of the pistol,
and the shrieks of some old slaves, were answered
by a shout from a distance. Immediately a blue
light illuminated the barracks, and a musket was
discharged to give the alarm. Just as I came in,
I could already hear the tramp of horses, and the
clanging of armour along the highway. There must
have been mounted troops abroad to be on horse so
soon.” This information was given with rapidity
and energy by the seaman.

“It is as I feared,” said the chief, calmly, “the dragoons
are upon us!” and drawing his cutlass, “follow!”
he cried to his men. And as the speediest
way of gaining the outside of the building, he sprang

[figure description] Page 085.[end figure description]

up the stairs into the room above, gently putting
the old man aside, as he emerged into the chamber.

“Save, oh save my father!” shrieked his daughter,
who had clung to his neck during the scene we
have described, striving to prevent him from rushing
below, and, who now threw herself upon his
breast, intervening her person as a shield between
the pirate's cutlass and her parent's bosom. “Save,
oh spare his life!” and she extended her arms
imploringly. “Take, take all, but let my father
live.”

“Fear not, fair maiden,” replied the chief in a
tone of deep respect, that fell like the voice of hope
upon her heart, struck with her extraordinary loveliness;
“do not be alarmed, your lives and honour
are sacred in the hands of Lafitte!”

“Lafitte! oh God!” shrieked the maiden;
and raised her eyes to heaven, clasped her snowy
fingers and would have fallen, had not the outlaw
caught her in his arms.

“Oh my daughter, my daughter!” cried the
helpless old man, weakened and nervous from excitement,
“what will become of you?” and falling
upon his knees before the pirate, he supplicated
his mercy.

“Oh, take all, take all—gold, jewels, all, but
leave me my Constanza—my only child! the blest
image of her mother!” and the furrowed cheeks
of the old father, as he pleaded for his child, were
running with tears. “For the sake of thy mother,”
he continued, with energy, “for the sake of
the blessed Virgin, take not away my only child!”
and the old man clasped the knees of the buccaneer,
and fell upon his face and wept.

“Venerable Señor, rise up, your daughter shall
not be taken from you,” replied Lafitte, raising
tenderly the prostrate old man from the ground.

[figure description] Page 086.[end figure description]

Constanza, when she felt that the pirate supported
her form, at once, by a strong mental effort, rose
superior to her weakness, and was preparing to
bound from him; but when she saw that he did
not detain her, and that he spoke kindly and soothingly
to her father, she thought a voice of so much
tenderness, could not belong to so bad a man as the
pirate had been represented to her. And when he
placed her father's form in her arms, she looked up
into the outlaw's face with greater confidence.

“Señor, I will believe you, we will trust in you,
for, oh! what else can we do? but go, do go from
us! take the gold you came for, and depart! Leave
me and my father; we can be happy without
wealth; he is too old to use it, and, I—I care not
for it—take it; it is yours, freely bestowed.”

“Maiden,” he replied, with an embarrassed air,
and a flush like shame suffusing his brow, whilst
the shouts of the dragoons approaching the villa,
rung unheeded in his ears. “Maiden, I thank
you, and feel grateful for your confidence; it is not
ill placed. The treasure it is out of my power to
command, or I would return it; it is in the hands
of my men, and at their disposal, not mine. But
here,” he added, after an instant's hesitation, kneeling,
and taking her hand, which she instantly withdrew,
“here is a treasure dearer to me than all else
beside!” and he gazed with impassioned, yet respectful
tenderness, upon the pale features of the
surprised girl.

“Pardon me,” he added with earnestness, as he
observed the maidenly embarrassment, his abrupt
address produced, “pardon me, that I make use of
such untimely language, at this moment, but there
is a tumult abroad—I hear the ringing of steel, the
shouts of fighting men, and the firing of musketry.
I must speak to you now! Listen to me, lady, I
beseech! See, I am a suppliant at your feet!”

[figure description] Page 087.[end figure description]

“Oh Señor, I implore you, think not of me! go!
your men call their chief! Go, you will be taken,
and your life will be sacrificed.”

As she spoke, a rich colour played over her cheek,
and mantled her brow, and her dark, up-raised
eye, betrayed deep and strange interest, in the
safety of the pirate—the fruit of a struggle between
resentment, and kindness, in her bosom; and her
dishevelled hair, fell, a dark cloud of ringlets, over
her neck and bosom, which heaved like a gently
agitated billow.

“Maiden, unless your lips pronounce forgiveness,—
without one ray of hope I cannot go. Speak,
Señora, but one word!”

“I do forgive you, señor, but leave me. Hark,
that shout! delay another moment, and you are
lost.”

“I will obey you, lady, and leave my cause to
you and heaven!” he said, seizing, and pressing
her hand to his lips; then, as the noise without
increased, he drew a pistol from his belt, and casting
back a lingering look, expressive of mingled
hope and fear, while a smile mantled his handsome
features, he rushed from the apartment on to the
terrace. The next moment, she heard his footsteps
dying away, in the direction of the sounds of
contest, which from the firing and cries of the combatants,
seemed to be already fierce and bloody.

Constanza, as the pirate disappeared, laid her father's
head upon a pillow, and leaving him to the
troubled sleep, into which he had sunk from exhaustion,
leaned from the window, and looked
forth upon the lovely moon, which, in its nightly
watch, never shone upon a sweeter face.

The sounds of conflict had receded till they
were lost in the distance; and all was still and
motionless, save a few white clouds sailing along
the blue heavens, a slight waving of the foliage

[figure description] Page 088.[end figure description]

about the window; and the irregular heaving of
her bosom.

She stood, and communed with her own
thoughts. “Strange! stange,” said she, mentally,
“but that voice, so rich, and full of tenderness!
how my heart bounded, when I heard him address
my poor father! where can I have heard it? How
singularly it affected me! and can he be Lafitte?
that dreadful man! proscribed among men—a
price set upon his head! hated, shunned, and
feared by all! Yet, how very noble looking he is,
and so humane! And his eyes, how dark and
piercing. He is certainly, very handsome! But,”
and her cheek paled, as she gave utterance to her
thoughts, “oh, holy Virgin, I fear him, the language
he used! oh, lost, lost Constanza! If beloved
by this outlaw, better have been the bride of
Velasquez, than the—the—oh, dear Madonna,
help now, for I know not what to do!” and she
covered her face with her hands, and the tears
forced their way through her taper fingers.

“Oh that Alphonse were here,” she at length
continued; “my own Alphonse! Dreary weeks
he has been absent, and yet he comes not. How
have I watched day after day, for the glimmer of
his white sails, upon the horizon. Oh, that he
were here to-night! when, when, will he come?”
and she rung her hands, and leaned despondingly
upon the window.

Suddenly, the report of a pistol, followed by the
sound of running feet, and now and then, a cry,
as of men pursuing and pursued, startled her from
her reverie; and instantly, the scenes she had gone
through, passed vividly before her mind, and she
awoke, at once, to a full consciousness of the loneliness,
and utter helplessness of her situation.

Hastening, instantly, as the noise increased, to
the side of her father, as though protection could

[figure description] Page 089.[end figure description]

be found in his feeble arm, she awaited, like the
panting fawn, with throbbing heart, and alarmed
eye, the coming danger. The sounds came nearer
and nearer, and the hasty tread of armed men
was heard upon the terrace, followed by a heavy
sound, as if one had leaped, at a bound, from
the ground on to the piazza. Hardly had Constanza
time to move from the surprised attitude
in which those appalling sounds arrested her, or
conjecture their nature, when, springing in through
the window, which she had just left to cling to
her father, Lafitte once more stood before her.

His eye was illuminative with a fierce light, his
lip was compressed, and blood was upon his brow
and hand, which grasped a dripping cutlass.

“Oh God! oh God!” shrieked the terrified girl,
as this sudden apparition appeared before her, and
fell senseless upon the floor. The outlaw though
closely pursued, paused for an instant, with indecision,
and then, hastily raised her with the air
of one, who had, at the moment, decided upon a
certain mode of conduct. Scarcely had he lifted
her drooping form upon his muscular arm, when
the window was filled with soldiers, thirsty for the
blood of the daring outlaw.

“Back, sirs; or, by the holy God, I will bury
this weapon in this maiden's bosom!” he cried in a
resolute tone; and he grasped his cutlass near the
point, shortening it, like a stiletto, and elevated
his arm.

The soldiers hesitated to enter.

“What, cowards! do you value a girl's life, when
Lafitte is the prize?” said the fierce voice of their
leader; “follow me!” and he sprung in at the
window—to fall back upon his men, a stiffened
corpse; while the report of a pistol, discharged behind
Lafitte, rung through the room.

“Ha Carlos! is that you?” said Lafitte, as he

[figure description] Page 090.[end figure description]

looked round to see from whence the shot was
fired.

“Yes, Señor,” he hastily replied, “escape through
the old man's door—down the stairs—and out
through the passage. I have just passed through,
and the coast is clear. I will keep the red devils at
bay,” said he quickly.

“Good, my Carlos—but the old man! we cannot
leave him,” and he pointed to the couch.

“Little will he know whether he be taken or left.
The old man's commission has run out,” said he,
laying his rough hand upon the cold temples of
the old Spaniard—“Dead, dead enough, señor!”

“Poor, poor child, how will she bear it!” said
Lafitte with interest—“How now,” he added quickly,
“here they come like so many blood-hounds.”

The soldiers without, who were engaged in loud
and noisy altercation among themselves, as to who
should first enter and seize the outlaw, now
hailed with a shout the sound of hoofs, and the
ringing of sabres and spurs, announcing a reinforcement.

“This fair girl must be my breast-plate—dash
out that light, and follow me!” cried the pirate;
and springing through the secret door, he disappeared
with his lovely burden. Carlos darted after
him and hastily closed the door, which received a
shower of bullets from half a dozen horse pistols,
levelled at his retreating form.

“Well done, Carlos,” said Lafitte, approvingly;
“now open your lantern and lead the way.”

Rapidly traversing the dark passages, they soon
left behind them the sounds of rage and disappointment,
vented by their pursuers on entering the
room, and finding their victims had escaped in
some mysterious manner.

“That torch here, William!” said the dragoon
officer,” how in the devil could he have escaped!

[figure description] Page 091.[end figure description]

There is no sign of an outlet here—he must be in
league with Beelzebub to have slipped away thus.
Ha! who is this?—old Don Velasquez!—and dead
too!—Poor old soldier—money, daughter, life,—
all in one hour! But mount men, mount! to
horse!—this outlaw has escaped by some subterranean
passage in this old Spanish house—and will
double upon us like an old hare—Ho! surround the
house—to horse!” Leaping from the window
he bounded across the gallery, and mounted, followed
by half a score of his followers; and putting
spurs to his horse, he made a rapid sweep around
the dwelling.

But before his pursuers had taken horse, Lafitte
threaded the subterranean passages of the building,
and emerged from the secret door into the
bright moonlight, and with the speed of the hunted
stag, crossed the open lawn and entered the
avenue which led towards the sea-shore. This path
was exposed for some distance, to the eye of an
observer, from the piazza of the villa, and as the
dragoons completed their survey of the grounds
immediately surrounding the house, and met at the
end of the wing, near the tamarind tree,—the white
robes of the maiden glared upon the eyes of the
leader.

“As I thought—on! there is our game,” he cried,
burying his spurs deep into the horses flanks, and
dashing down the avenue, like the wind, followed
at speed by his troop.

“Carlos,” cried Lafitte, as he heard the shout,
announcing to him that they were on his track.
“Now we must put forth all our energies, my brave
man. You know the path—go before and we
will yet distance them—fly!”—and on they went
with the rapidity of deer, with the hounds but a
bound behind them,—passing under trees—crossing
from avenue to avenue, and endeavouring, by a

[figure description] Page 092.[end figure description]

straight line, to gain the cliff instead of following
the windings of the paths which were open to the
cavalry. Breathless they flew, and at every turn,
and opening in the shrubbery, the feet and voices of
their pursuers were heard nearer and nearer.

“Now, captain, we are at the end of the grounds,
and here is the gate—stoop, sir,” said Carlos, darting
under the hedge, from which their ebony guide had
crawled early in the evening, to conduct them on
their expedition.

“Thank God! we are safe at last—they cannot
pass that barrier,” exclaimed Lafitte, as he paused
a moment, to breathe on the outer side of the hedge,
“and this fair maiden!” he added with sympathy,
“she is yet unconscious!”

“Now, Carlos, once through this wood, without
being intercepted, and we are safe—forward!” he
said, in an assured tone; and raising his lifeless
burden, he moved swiftly through the forest, while
the shouts and execrations of their pursuers, as they
found their prey had eluded their pursuit, rung in
their ears.

The fugitives had nearly gained the cliff, when
a sudden galloping on their left, told them that their
pursuers had found a way to clear the hedge.
Looking back, they discovered their arms gleaming
through the trees, and the whole troop dashing forward
in full cry.

Drawing his belt tighter around him, bringing
his cutlass hilt to his grasp, and changing his still
lifeless burden to the other arm, with renewed speed,
the outlaw bounded through the dark glades of the
forest. Every moment lessened his distance from
his pursuers—and just as he was ascending a slight
eminence, commanding a view of the sea, and
near the verge of the cliff, beneath which their
vessel lay—the foremost horseman was within pistol
shot of them.

[figure description] Page 093.[end figure description]

“Surrender, sir pirate! surrender!” he shouted
as he levelled his long pistol, and deeper plunged his
spurs into the sides of his foaming steed; the next
instant horse and rider would have been upon the
buccaneer, when drawing a pistol from his girdle,
and half turning in his flight, he fired upon the
dragoon. The ball sunk into the forehead of his
horse, which, with one plunge forward, fell lifeless
upon his rider—and the ball of his pistol, which he
discharged while falling, passed through the cap of
the pirate. The remainder of the troop were close
upon him, but the fate of their comrade, for a moment
checked their speed.

“Hold there, for your lives, men!” shouted
their commanding officer who had been outridden
by his troop—and now came up—“hold, do not fire,
but surround and take him. It were better
that he should escape, than that fair girl should be
injured.”

“A hundred guineas to him,” he added “who
captures him, dead or alive—but if the lady suffer
harm, let him who gives the blow, beware!”

The soldiers sullenly returned their pistols to their
holsters and drew their swords. But there were now
other objects on which to exercise them; for at the
same moment appeared a party of the pirate's crew,
armed with cutlasses and fire-arms, who, leaving the
schooner, and marching inland, on hearing the signal
for succour made by their comrades, were returning,
without meeting with them—they having, with the
exception of Lafitte, gained the shore by another
route, with the loss of two of their number, shot
down by the dragoons, and a portion of their booty.
Striking their cutlasses against their pistols, with a
loud noise—and cheering each other with shouts,
they came on at a rapid pace, and before the dragoons
could draw and cock their fire-arms to meet
this new enemy, they were fired upon with fatal

[figure description] Page 094.[end figure description]

effect, by the advancing buccaneers. Here and
there, a rider fell from his steed at the discharge,
while the wounded animals fled with wild cries
through the forest.

“On, on! revenge for our comrades!” cried the
pirates, pressing forward to close with them; creeping
under the horses, and passing their cutlasses up
through their bodies—dragging the riders, by main
force from their seats, or springing behind them,
and hurling them bodily to the ground. For a few
moments men and horse, were mingled in a sanguinary
and dreadful melée.

The leader of the buccaneers did not, however,
derive any personal advantage from this reinforcement;
for the captain of dragoons, dismounting,
as the pirates made their desperate charge, cried,
“Have at you, sir pirate, for my own pleasure,
and rescue of that lady;” advancing, as he spoke,
with his drawn sword upon his antagonist, who,
from the time he had killed the horse and dismounted
the dragoon—for a moment checking the pursuit—
had stood at bay, and facing his foes, determined
to fight his way, step by step, to his vessel.

His eye lighted up with pleasure, as he heard the
challenge of the leader of the dragoons—a tall, gentlemanly-looking
Englishman, with an herculean
frame, and a strikingly military air.

Anxious to get safe to his schooner his lovely
shield, whom he internally resolved should be forever
his, although he had first taken her up to favour
his own escape, when, closely pursued, he retreated
to the villa—he still moved slowly backward, facing
his advancing foe. In his left arm he supported
Constanza, her unconscious head laid upon his
shoulder, while he wielded his formidable cutlass in
his right hand, upon which he received the ringing
steel of the officer.

In vain the Englishman used every device of art,

[figure description] Page 095.[end figure description]

and each favourite ruse, and as uselessly did he
follow blow on blow, with tremendous force. The
pirate coolly received his descending weapon upon
his cutlass at every stroke, and acting only on the
defensive, still retreated steadily to the verge of the
cliff.

“Now have at you, sir Englishman!” he cried,
as he reached the head of the defile leading to his
vessel. “Now have at you, in my turn. If you
love Lafitte so well, he will give you a lasting mark
of his friendship. So, there!” he added, suddenly
and emphatically, as the officer, at first making a
feint, aimed a heavy blow at his head, which he intended
should be his coup de grace. “So, there!”
and while he received his antagonist's sword upon
his own guard, by a peculiar motion of his cutlass,
with the same movement of his arm, he whirled it
from his grasp high into the air, and making a
sweep over his head, his rapid cutlass whistling
through the air, descended and nearly severed the
left arm of the Englishman from his body. The
officer groaned, and fell heavily upon the ground,
while Lafitte descended with rapidity the narrow
defile to his schooner.

“Ho! Théodore! are you there, my boy?” he
said, as he saw the slight form of the youth upon
the deck; “receive this lady, and convey her to the
starboard state-room, and try to restore her. Jacques,
be out of this place as soon as possible.”

“The anchor is apeak, sir,” replied his lieutenant;
“and the boat is ahead with a tow-line: shall we
move, sir?”

“No, no! hold on, here come the men! Spring
aboard, every one of you!” The seamen came
hastily down the gorge, leaving two-thirds of their
number behind them, while the voices of the soldiers
were heard in full cry in pursuit, some bearing
wounded comrades, and others portions of the booty,

[figure description] Page 096.[end figure description]

the most of which, was already safely got on board.
As soon as the last man touched the deck, the commander
uttered his orders for making sail with
rapidity.

“Hoist away the jib and mainsail; set the topgallant-sails
and royals; we must make every thing
tell! Give way, men!” he shouted to the manned
boat ahead; “steadily! there she moves! bear off
from that crag! bend to those spars, men! now she
moves! Pull heartily and cheerily, men, or we shall
be intercepted by a guarda costa!”

“A curse upon this night's work,” he said to himself,
turning and walking aft as the schooner yielded
to the efforts of the crew. “This is well called the
Devil's Punch Bowl, and he is likely to have us all
for ingredients, for his next bumper.”

In a few moments the dark-hulled schooner, under
the sweeps, the slightly drawing royals, and by the
aid of the tow-boat, glided swiftly over the black,
glassy flood, and in a few minutes, moved through
the narrow entrance of the basin into the open bay.
Rapidly passing, with a strengthening breeze, the
needles or pinnacles of rock which girted the little
harbour, her tall masts covered with clouds of canvass,
and bounding with a lively motion before the
night-breeze, she left behind her the land, and the
scenes of death and desolation her presence had created,
and swiftly and steadily stood for the open sea.

[figure description] Page 097.[end figure description]