[figure description] Page 071.[end figure description]

WHEN Faulcon regained the deck he found Lightfoot near the
companion-way with his spy-glass bent upon the ship, which
was now within a quarter of a mile to leeward, for though
to windward at first, Lightfoot, by bracing sharp, had worked to
windward of her.

“She is a merchant-man with all her warlike display of ports,” he
said, addressing Faulcon. “Her yards are not square enough for a
man-of-war, and her masts stoop too much. Boatswain, pipe all hands
to quarters.”

“You don't mean to fire into her?”

“Not if she yields gracefully. But I have no time to discuss
points with you, Mr. Faulcon. Attend to your duty, and command
the battery.”

As he spoke he seized a trumpet and swinging himself into the
main rigging by the peak-halyards, prepared to hall the ship which
was now within pistol shot of the schooner, and steering in a direction
opposite to, but parallel with her course. She was a large vessel,
and displayed distinctly a checkered rauge of ports. She rose and
sel, fell with majestic motion upon the billows, and moved proudly on,
as if disdaining the little vessel that was dancing towards her.

“Ship ahoy!” shouted Lightfoot, suddenly through his trumpet.

“Ho! the schooner!”

“What ship is that?”

“The Washington, from New-York bound to New-Orleans.”

“Back your fore-topsails and send a boat on board of me.”

“What schooner is that?”

“The Colombian schooner of war, Ala del Viento.”

“You have no authority to board an American ship,” responded
a firm voice from the quarter-deck of the Washington. “So I shall
keep on my course unless you are in distress,” and the stately ship
moved proudly on her way.

[figure description] Page 072.[end figure description]

“Stand by with the gun, forward.”

“All ready, sir!”

“Fire a shot into her.”

Mosley, however, pointed the gun far forward of the ship and fired
it, for Faulcon had directed him to obey orders. The next moment
the fore-yard of the ship swung aback to the mast, and the ship became
stationary.

“Back the fore-topsail,” cried Lightfoot to Mosley, and the
schooner also ceased her onward motion and stood still abeam of
the ship.

“What is your purpose of stopping this vessel upon the high
seas?” asked Faulcon of Lightfoot, as he heard the order given on
board the ship to lower away a boat.

“To get out of her what specie she may have on board as freight,
and lighten the trunks of the passengers of their doubloons.”

“In a word, you are a pirate, and mean to plunder her.”

“You have hit it, Mr. Faulcon; and as I command the schooner,
I shall expect you to co-operate with me.”

“You mistake your man, freebooter,” responded Faulcon, sternly.

“What? do you say you will refuse to obey my orders, Mr.
Faulcon?”

“I do, sir, most positively.”

“Ho! Crummel, bring those irons here that you have ready. You
are once more my prisoner, sir.”

As Lightfoot spoke, he drew a pistol from his belt and levelled it
at the heart of Faulcon. The latter struck it from his grasp into the
air, drew his cutlass, and at the same time shouted the watch-word,
“Colombia!”

In an instant, the deck of the schooner, fore and aft, presented an
extraordinary scene. The partisans of Faulcon being dispersed in
all quarters, mingled with the adherents of Lightfoot, rushed to their
deposit of arms, and attacked them. The piratical part of the
crew being unarmed, and wholly unsuspicious of the revolt, were
taken by surprise. Some of them seized hand-spikes and resisted,
but were either shot or cut down. Some escaped into the rigging,
others fled below to get weapons which were not to be obtained, and
two or three leaped into the water. The deck, amidships and forward,
was, for a few moments, a scene of strife and carnage. Mosley
was everywhere leading and encouraging his party, and having got
possession of all the deck forward of the capstan, came aft. Here
Crummel and three other men attacked him with pikes and fragments

[figure description] Page 073.[end figure description]

of spars, but several of his band coming to his aid, the three men
were taken prisoners, while Crummel, refusing to yield, fell by a bullet
from Mosley's pistol.

In the meanwhile Faulcon and Lightfoot were closely engaged in
a spirited combat with cutlasses. The latter had received one pistol
shot and two severe sabre blows in the arm and temples, which only
increased his ferocity. He attacked Faulcon like an enraged tiger,
at every other blow venting upon him the most fearful imprecations.

“You had best yield, Lightfoot,” cried Faulcon. “Your schooner,
you see, is in my hands. Your reign is at end. Yield, and your life
shall be spared.”

“Never to thee, traitor!” answered the Captain, springing forward
to try a grapple with him.

“Then I will set my men to disarm you, for I have no wish to kill
you. You shall live to suffer the penalty due to your crimes.”

“You, craven, shall never live to witness it,” cried Lightfoot,
throwing himself with his whole weight upon him, and shortening
his cutlass so as to press it against his heart. Faulcon's life was for
a moment in no little peril. He felt the point of the blade forced
against his breast, when Don Diego, seeing his imminent danger, flew
to his aid, and with a thrust of his sword, pierced his arm and paralyzed
its power. With a deep curse the pirate drew back, and at the
same instant, was seized by Mosley and two or three men, and
thrown to the deck. The irons which he had prepared for Faulcon
were placed upon his own wrists, and he was led by Faulcon's command
into the steerage and chained to a bolt in the deck.

“He will bleed to death, sir,” said Mosley as he returned to Faulcon.
“He refases to have the blood staunched.”

“Then let him have his own pleasure,” answered Faulcon, sternly.
“I would rather he should live; for I should like to have the satisfaction
of surrendering him a prisoner to the Colombians. Are his wounds
deep?”

“I think not, sir.”

“Mervin,” said Faulcon to a young man who had once been a student
of surgery, and who at times acted in the capacity of surgeon to
the men, “go into the steerage, and examine his wounds, and see if you
can prevail upon him to have them cared for! Now, Mosley, I believe
the schooner is in our hands!”

“Yes, Mr. Faulcon, after a bloody contest too!”

“How many were killed?”

[figure description] Page 074.[end figure description]

“At least nine of them, sir, and some dozen wounded!”

“And the rest are forward, prisoners?”

“Yes, sir. Every man under the guard of one of our own people!”

“Have them all ironed and secured below; and then restore the
schooner to its former order!”

“What is to be done about the ship, sir? There she lays, and her
boat stops half way between the vessels, where the beginning of the
fray caused those in her to cease rowing.”

“I will go on board of her. Man the cutter!”

The ship was still remaining in the position where she had been
hove to. The sudden noise of the contest—the report of pistols—the
clashing of cutlasses—the cries of the combatants reaching them over
the water, filled them with surprise.

“There is a mutiny or the devil to pay on board there,” exclaimed
the captain of the packet, as he sprung into the mizzen rigging of his
vessel, to see what was going on. “The fellow is a pirate, there is
no doubt, and they have come to loggerheads about us. I hope they
will kill each other to a man. They fight like wolves. It is no boy's
play there. Hear the plunges into the sea!”

At intervals the flashes of the discharged pistols gave them a momentary,
but full view of the deadly struggle fore and aft upon the
schooner's deck; and the contest was witnessed by them all, captain,
passengers and crew, with the most intense surprise and curiosity.
They felt a personal interest in the issue, for they believed that their
fate was in some way involved in it.

“The more there are killed, the better our chance will be,” cried
the captain of the ship, as the noise of the battle grew louder.

At length the sounds of the combat ceased. The clash of cutlasses,
the ringing of pistols was at an end; and a cloud of smoke hung over
the schooner, so lately the scene of such a terrific struggle between man
and his fellow. The captain of the packet now watched the further progress
of events with the most intense anxiety. He had called to his boat,
which had began to pull towards the schooner, to lay on its oars, and it
now remained rocking upon the billows, about half a cable's length from
both vessels. He would have made sail and endeavored now to escape,
but feared that the attempt might bring upon him a broadside
from the schooner, which he saw by the glare of the pistols fired off in
the fight, carried ten guns. He, however, armed his crew and passengers,
numbering in all, nearly sixty men, by breaking open several

[figure description] Page 075.[end figure description]

cases of muskets that he carried as freight; and resolved to resist any
attempt to carry his ship by boarding. Several cutlasses and pikes
were also distributed among the party, who were very resolute in their
purpose to defend the ship to the last; for there were several ladies on
board, wives and daughters, whose presence alone was sufficient to inspire
them with the most resolute resistance to the freebooters.

In the midst of the silence that prevailed on the decks of both vessels,
the packet captain heard distinctly the order given by Faulcon to
lower and man the cutter.

“We shall now know the worst, and the meaning of this battle
among them,” he said, as the cutter began to pull towards them. “Do
not fear, ladies! He visits us only in a small six oared boat. His intentions
are pacific at least, now!”

“Shall you let him come aboard, captain?” asked two or three of
the passengers, cocking their guns.

“To be sure! I want to know his business. We have nothing to
fear from a boat's crew. They have come up with my boat, and some
words are spoken between them! They seem to be civil ones. Now
both boats are pulling along together!”

Their progress was watched with the most eager curiosity, until the
cutter from the schooner came under the gangway.

“Throw him a rope,” cried the captain of the ship. “Now let down
the gangway-ladder!”

The rope was caught by the bow-oarsman, and the boat drawn alongside.
Faulcon then stepped upon the gangway-ladder, and ascended
to the deck by the aid of his right arm alone, for his left was wounded
by a blow from Lightfoot's cutlass, and now hung in a sling.

“Who is the captain of this ship?” he inquired, in a tone at once
courteous and commanding, as he gazed round upon the dense group
gathered about the gangway, rendered visible by the light of several
lanterns held by seamen.

“I am, sir,” answered Captain Bunker, advancing a step.

“I have come on board to inform you that you are no longer detained.
You are at liberty to proceed on your voyage!”

“Why was I brought to by a shot, sir?” he demanded sharply.
“And if you please, inform us what bloody work has been going on in
your schooner. Are you her captain?”

“I am now! I was not fifteen minutes ago!”

“Then she has changed hands! You have had a mutiny?”

[figure description] Page 076.[end figure description]

“Yes. The vessel was three weeks ago in the Colombian service.
The war having ended, her captain, to remunerate himself for a debt
due him by the government, run to sea with his schooner, and resolved
to hoist the free flag. I was his lieutenant, and refusing to join him,
was thrown into irons. At length I feigned to yield, was restored to
my duty, and formed secretly a plan to retake the schooner, and carry
her back into Colombia. His purpose to board and plunder your vessel,
was the signal for resistance on my part, and hastened the crisis.
You witnessed the struggle. I had on my side thirty-four out of seventy
men. We have carried the vessel, and her captain is in irons. I
have boarded you to make this explanation, and to express my regret
at your detention.”

“With this address, Faulcon bowed, and turned as if about to quit
the ship, when to his surprise, he heard his name pronounced by a female
voice, with an exclamation of sudden recognition. The tones,
ere he looked round at the speaker, thrilled to his soul. He directed
his eyes to the place whence the voice came, and beheld leaning upon
the arm of her father, Alice Ashley, pale and fragile, and regarding him
with a look of the most eager attention and touching interest.

“No, my brave captain,” exclaimed the commander of the packet-ship,
taking his hand, and grasping it warmly; “you are not to get off
so easily. Come into the cabin, and let us have a glass of wine. You
need it after such hard fighting as I have seen you engaged in to-night!”

[figure description] Illustration.[end figure description]

Previous section

Next section