"Six fathoms!" came the voice of the leadsman from the chains.

"We can stand in some way farther yet," commented Cavendish. "I want to take the ship in as near as I can, so that the men may not have far to pull in the boat. Furthermore, gentlemen, by the look of the sky, methinks that a gale is brewing, and it will be well that the boat get not too far away from the ship."

"Five and a half fathoms!" chanted the leadsman a few minutes later.

"'Tis well. Still keep her going as she is," ordered the captain.

The people on deck could now see the poor solitary on the beach quite distinctly, and presently he came running down to the water's edge, still waving his red flag; and so eager did he appear for rescue that it seemed as though he intended to swim off to the ships, for he waded into the sea up to his arm-pits.

"I pray Heaven that he does nothing so foolish!" murmured Roger, who still remembered his own experience with the sharks.

The unfortunate man had no such intention, it presently appeared; yet was he still in a sufficiently dangerous situation, for he stopped where he was with the water up round his shoulders, and continued waving his signal of distress.

"Five fathoms bare!" was the next report of the man with the sounding-line.

"We can edge in even a little farther yet," remarked the captain. "But I cannot understand," he continued, "why that man persists in acting so strangely. He must know by this time that we have seen him and will rescue him, yet he continues to signal with his arms and that red rag as though he were demented. It would not greatly surprise me to find, when we get him on board, that his brain has given way with the horror of solitude, suffering, and privation."

"By your leave, sir, it seems very much to me," suggested Roger, touching his hat, "as though the poor fellow were striving not so much to attract us nearer as to warn us to keep farther away."

"Why, boy, prithee what puts that idea into your head?" retorted the captain rather testily. "Why should he wish us to keep off? Surely if you were in his place you would be fully as anxious as he appears to be to have the rescuing ships approach and take you off without delay?"

"What I meant to suggest, Mr Cavendish," responded Roger rather stiffly, and not one whit abashed by his commander's testiness, "was that perchance this man knows the shoals and rocks round the island well. He may perceive that we are sailing into danger, and wish to warn us from approaching any closer before it be too late."

"Zounds, boy!" shouted Cavendish, "'fore Heaven I believe that you may be right in your assumption!"

Then, turning to the crew: "All hands stand by to veer ship!" he cried.

But even as he spoke there was a sudden check to the vessel's way, and almost instantly she stopped dead, the sudden shock throwing more than one man prostrate on the deck. At the same moment the leadsman in the chains gave his warning cry: "Three fathoms only, and shoaling fast!"

But the warning came too late, for the vessel had taken the ground, which evidently shoaled up with great abruptness. Her fore, main, and mizzen topmasts snapped like carrots with the sudden check to her speed, and came tumbling down with their attendant wreckage, thus adding to the already great confusion on deck, and, what was worse, killing two men, whom they could ill spare, and badly injuring five others.

"You were right, Roger!" shouted the captain as he ran past the lad to the stern of the vessel, with intent to warn the other ships from a similar mishap. But the warning was needless, for they had been on the lookout, and, observing the accident to their consort, had at once hauled their wind and gone off on another tack in time to avoid a similar fate. When at a safe distance they luffed into the wind and, furling their canvas, came to anchor.

Cavendish, seeing that the remainder of his little squadron was safe, ordered the wreckage to be cut adrift and the decks cleared for further operations.

"Work away with a will, lads!" he cried encouragingly.

"The ship has taken a soft berth; she lies on the sand, and there is no present danger of her sinking; indeed we are in much too shoal water for that. Mr Leigh, we must get the wreckage cleared away first of all, after which we will get out kedge anchors astern; and if these fail us we will run out cables to the other vessels. Perchance we may thus get ourselves off by our own hauling and the others towing. But we must all work with a will; for, as all may see, there is in the look of the sky every prospect of ill weather very shortly, and if it take us ashore like this we shall lose the ship! Now, Roger, take you two hands in the gig—I cannot spare more—and bring off that poor fellow. I would that we had earlier understood what he meant; it would have saved us this disaster. And hasten, lad, for I cannot spare even three of you for a single moment longer than is absolutely necessary. Yet must I have that man, for he may possess information of untold worth to us. And you, Mr Leigh, will take two hands also, and go off to the other vessels. You will acquaint them with our condition, and give them their orders to prepare for towing, and to be ready by the moment when we can avail ourselves of their help, for we have no time to waste."

Roger soon found his two men, and the boat was got ready and over the side in a very few minutes; yet, quick as he had been, he perceived as he pushed off that Mr Leigh's boat was already some distance on her way to the other ships.

"Now, give way, men, with a will!" cried the lad, encouragingly. "You heard what Mr Cavendish said—there is not a moment to lose if we are to get that man off, and the ship too, ere the gale breaks. And indeed I like not the look of the weather at all. It fast grows more threatening, and we shall be lucky if we get back to the fleet in time. Furthermore, I fear much that there will not be time to save the poor old Stag Royal: she is, to my mind, hopelessly lost, for, if appearance belie it not, the gale will be down on us ere they can hope to move her off the sand; and I pray God that the poor fellows on board her may be able to get away from her in time. Ah, the wind comes away even now! Pull, lads, pull, or we shall be swamped ere we can get ashore!"

As he spoke, the whole sky seemed to darken in a moment all round them; the sea took on the appearance of dull metal and became of a livid hue. Away on the north-western horizon the sky was black as ink, and below that, between sky and wave, was a line of white extending athwart the horizon, showing the forefront of the advancing gale.

"Pull, lads, pull!" again shouted Roger, raising his voice above the deep moaning sound that filled the air everywhere about them. "Unless we can contrive to reach the shore before that line of white, you know what our fate will be. We shall have to wait until the gale blows over before we can return to the ships, if indeed they survive it."

The seamen saw that what Roger said was only too true, and pulled for dear life; but the boat was a heavy one, her full complement of oarsmen being eight. Now, however, she had only two men pulling; they therefore made painfully slow progress, and the white line of water seemed to be overtaking them at a speed that filled them with despair.

Meanwhile Roger noticed that the solitary watcher on the beach had now left the water, and was lying at full-length on the sand as though overcome by his exertions, weakened as perhaps he was by long exposure and privation.

The lad felt extremely anxious as to the fate of the ships, and frequently turned his head to snatch a glimpse of what was happening behind him. He was able to see, during his brief observations, that boats had been lowered from the stranded ship, and from her consorts, and were plying at their utmost speed between the wreck and the other vessels of the squadron. It was evident to Roger that the captain, observing the extraordinarily rapid approach of the gale, and foreseeing that, unless a miracle were to take place, the stranded ship must be lost, had not delayed a moment, but was transferring her crew to the other ships as fast as he possibly could. Roger fervently prayed that this operation of transfer might be completed ere the storm burst upon them; but he was very doubtful, for that fatal white line of foam was driving down upon the fleet with appalling rapidity.

But he could not relax his attention from the matter that he himself had in hand. He could not watch what was going on behind him and also steer the boat; so he set his teeth and gripped the tiller hard, looking straight ahead of him in search of the best and safest spot on which to beach his boat, for the sea was rising fast. He would have given much to have had his bosom friend and more than brother, Harry, in the boat with him at that moment. He could always rely on Harry's coolness and sound clear-headed advice, and he would have felt much less anxious had his chum been with him then.

The man on shore was now seen to stagger to his feet and to support himself with a stick, alternately pointing out to sea and beckoning them on. But neither Roger nor the men with him now needed anyone to remind them of the peril in which they stood.

They were nearing the beach now, but meanwhile the sea had been rising with almost incredible rapidity. When they left the ship the sea had been calm, with not even a ripple lapping the beach. There had been the proverbial calm before the storm. But now, although the gale had not yet reached the boat, the waves were leaping up the beach in foam, and their back-wash gave forth a roar like that of distant thunder. Roger yearned to look behind him again, to ascertain how far away the white squall still was, but he dared not turn his head; all his nerve and skill and courage were now needed to enable him to beach the boat without capsizing her. One glance at the faces of the men pulling, who of course were sitting looking aft in the direction from which the storm was coming, was enough to convince him that it could not be by this time very far distant. They were now within a few fathoms of the beach, and Roger, for the first time, dared to hope that they would reach the shore without any mishap, when he observed his two seamen redouble their exertions, with a look of terror on their countenances, although they were very nearly "gastados" as the Dons say, or used up, and the next moment, with a fearful shriek, the white squall burst in all its fury upon the unhappy trio. The boat seemed suddenly to take wings; she was propelled with fearful velocity towards the beach; the spindrift whistled about them and blinded them; the shriek and roar of the wind deafened them, and its fearful force stunned them. The seamen were blown bodily from the thwarts into the bottom of the boat; but Roger, clinging desperately to the gunwale with one hand, and fiercely gripping the tiller with the other, contrived to retain his seat, and strove to pierce the dense mist of scud-water with his eyes, that he might see to beach the boat safely. But he could perceive nothing, and the next moment a wave descended full upon his back, dashing him forward and out over the bows. The tiller thus released, the boat broached to, filled, and capsized, and her three occupants were left struggling in the water and fighting for their lives, while the craft was flung bottom-upward on the beach and dashed into staves by the violence of the shock. Tossed hither and thither, to and fro, Roger strove to get his breath; but he could not, for he seemed buried in salt water; and he was suffering all the agonies of suffocation when his head emerged for a moment from the water and he drew a hasty breath that seemed to put fresh strength into his fast-failing limbs. Yet, strive against it as he would, although he felt the beach under his feet, they were fast being dragged from under him; he was in the clutch of the fatal undertow, and he knew that, exhausted as he was, if he were once swept back again into deep water he would drown, for his strength was now at an end. Summoning up all his energy, therefore, he gave vent to a loud shout for help—although help seemed to be the last thing he might expect at that moment—and made one last struggle for life. But, even as his senses failed him, and he was sinking backward in that fatal embrace, a pair of strong hands clutched his hair and arm, and for a few seconds he felt as though, between the sea on the one hand and a sturdy British seaman on the other, he were being torn asunder. Presently, however, the wave receded; the awful feeling of being sucked back left him, and, opening his eyes, he saw that he was on terra firma, with the sea behind him. "Now run," shouted the seaman—one Jake Irwin, who had been in the boat with him,—"run, Master Trevose, before the next sea catches ye." At the same time he dragged the lad up the beach with all his strength, and they reached safety as another wave came rolling hungrily after them, to retire again with an angry snarl, as though cheated of its lawful prey. Roger stood up and wiped the wet from his eyes and ears, and wrung the water out of his clothes as well as he could, and looked about him. He saw the two seamen—one of whom had rescued him, only just in the nick of time, from a watery grave—standing close by; and not far from them he perceived the figure of the man whom they had come to rescue, and for whom they had so nearly met disaster. The seamen who had rowed in the boat seemed none the worse for their adventure, and asked the lad how he felt, and whether he had suffered from the accident to the boat. Roger, aching in every limb and muscle from his recent struggle in the water, felt himself carefully over, and was able to assure them that he had broken no bones.

The stranger now approached and spoke to them, thanking them and applauding their bravery in coming away to save him, despite the threat of the gale that was by this time raging furiously. The man, it appeared, was an Englishman, and, in answer to a question put by Roger, he confessed that, as the captain had suggested on the deck of the flag-ship, he had been one of a crew of pirates, and, having incurred the displeasure of his captain and the enmity of his companions, had been marooned on the sand-bank with but a small stock of provisions and no means of obtaining more when those were exhausted; he had been allowed neither fishing-tackle nor musket with powder and shot, although the latter would not have been of very much use to him, for the island was small and so far away from the mainland that birds very seldom made their appearance there. It appeared that he had been on the sand-bank some thirty-six days, with the few provisions that they had been moved to give him, and nothing else beside but the clothing he stood up in.

"But," concluded the poor fellow, who was emaciated and weak to the last degree, "I have made a bit of a shelter to leeward of the top of this bank; let us go there, since even it is better than nothing at all. Your boat's smashed to pieces on the beach, and we shall be forced to remain here until the storm blows itself out before they can send another boat. I pray that it may not be long in doing so, for, although there is water here in plenty, my provisions are pitifully low; in fact, for the four of us, there is only enough for about two days with the strictest economy. But come round to my shelter and I will make some fire, so that you can get your clothes dried, and you will then be a bit more comfortable."

They were turning to follow their new friend, when Roger once more cast his eyes out to seaward, and he came to a stand-still, remaining as if rooted to the spot. The others gazed at him for a moment in astonishment, not knowing what had come over the lad. As they looked, however, he raised his arm slowly and pointed to seaward; the other three, following the direction of his outstretched arm, at once saw the reason for the horror and despair depicted on the lad's countenance. The flag-ship, which they had left stranded, lay broken in half by the terrific force of the sea, and the after-part of her was now being gradually driven shoreward, the fore-part remaining, as before, embedded in the sand; and, worse still for the poor castaways, the remaining three ships of the fleet had cut their cables and, setting what sail they dared, were heading away from the island before the gale. No wonder that Roger felt stunned with despair, as he realised that he was actually left on an island that was nothing more than a mere sand-bank, with three other men to bear him company, it is true, but with, between the four, only two days' provisions, provided that they were used with the most rigid economy!

But he was roused from his reverie by Jake's voice saying to him: "Never worry, Master Trevose, they ships ha'n't forgotten us by no manner o' means; but the skipper sees as how he can't take us off while this 'ere gale lasts, so he's cut his cables and run for it. The captain have lost one ship, and he don't want to lose any more, so he've just bore up out of harm's way until the gale have blowed itself out. And that, sir, with all submission, I calls good seamanship. Never you fear, sir; we ain't forgotten; the skipper ain't the man to forget his crew, nor no part of 'em; and as soon as this 'ere bit of a breeze is over, you'll see they three ships come sailin' back here to this sand-bank to take us off again. I knows Captain Cavendish, I do, and he ain't the man to forget we's here, and sail away and leave us. We'll see 'em all back here to-morrow, or next day at the furdest. But I'm wonderin' whether there were any poor fellers left aboard the Stag Royal when she parted in the middle!" And old Jake Irwin looked round, shading his eyes from the flying spindrift, to see if he could discover any trace of human being either in the sea or washed up on the beach. But none was visible.

"Yes, you are right, Jake," said Roger. "I forgot for the moment that Captain Cavendish would be obliged to leave that anchorage or be blown on shore. But the captain will, of course, return as soon as he is able. As to there being any people aboard when the ship parted, Jake, I think all were taken off before that happened. And now, since we can do no more for the present, we had better go and take shelter as this man suggests. By the way, my man, what is your name?"

"My name, sir, is William Evans," replied the marooned man.

"And mine," said Roger, "is Roger Trevose; and these two men"—pointing to them in turn—"are Jake Irwin and Walter Bevan."

"Thank you, sir!" answered Evans. "Yonder is my shelter, and when we reach it I will give you my history up to the present, if you care to listen to it, for I feel that I have not much longer to live; this last month has compassed my death, so great have been the hardships that I have been obliged to endure. After the storm has ceased somewhat we had better go along the beach and collect any wreckage that happens to come ashore. And I pray Heaven that some food may be washed up, for we have very little here to go on with!"

A few minutes later they came to the "shelter", which was merely a deep hole dug in the sand, and roofed over with palm branches and grass, together with a few bits of plank and timber that had been washed up on the beach.

"Enter, sir, and fellow-seamen," said Evans, "and to such poor hospitality as I can offer you, you are most heartily welcome."

They went in, and the man made a fire with the help of his tinder-box and a few dry sticks that he routed out from a corner. The fire was soon blazing merrily, and they took off their clothes and held them before the flames to dry. Whilst this was being done, the marooned man, whose face even now bore the imprint of death, brought a little food out of his scanty store, and some water, and the party sat down to eat and drink. Then, when the meal was ended, they resumed their clothes, which were now dry, and prepared to listen to the history of the ex-pirate, which he gave to the accompaniment of the beating of rain over their heads, and the tumult of the gale around them.

Meanwhile Cavendish had not forgotten these poor waifs; but, having barely contrived to clear the shore with his squadron, was now being driven away fast to leeward of the island by the furious gale, which as yet gave no sign of blowing itself out.



CHAPTER NINE.

THE MAROONED MAN TELLS HIS STORY.

Crouching over the fire, the marooned man proceeded to tell his story.

"Well," he began, "I must tell you first that I was born in the year 1532, in the town of Monmouth, in Wales, of purely Welsh parents, bearing the ancient name of Evans. In my early youth I kept about the house and tended our flock of sheep, of which we had a great many, on the dear old Welsh mountains. This life suited me well, for I was of a studious frame of mind, fond of learning, and I read and studied much while out on the hills with the sheep. At this time our family was very prosperous; but not long afterwards England began to be torn by those religious struggles, which I doubt not you two older men will well remember, and we were unfortunate enough to have our lands confiscated by that tyrant, King Henry the Eighth, and, from a state of prosperity and the possession of all we could reasonably wish, my family found itself landless, without money, and even without a home. Besides myself, there were two other children, both girls; and what worried my poor parents most was the problem of what to do with us three children. Fortunately an uncle of my mother—a man whose religious convictions had a habit of changing with the times—had retained all his property, and he undertook to take my two young sisters and bring them up as his own children. This kindness on his part relieved my parents of much anxiety; but there was still the difficulty as to what to do with me. At last it was decided, in the absence of anything better, that I should go to sea; and accordingly, although I did not at all care for the idea, to sea I had to go, since no other course was open to me. My father secured me a berth as cabin-boy on board a vessel called the Delight, trading between London and ports on the Mediterranean, and commanded by a man named Thomas West. It had happened that my father, in the time of his prosperity, had been able to do this man a service, and that was the reason why he took me on board his ship; and I am bound to say that he was always very kind to me. The time for the next voyage came round only too quickly for my liking, and I bade a sad farewell to my father and mother, who somehow scraped up money enough to go to London with me to see me off, little dreaming, poor souls, that they would never see me again."

The pirate's voice shook slightly; he paused for a moment, and brushed the back of his hand across his eyes; then, clearing his throat, he resumed: "We left London in the latter part of the year 1547, when I was very nearly sixteen years of age, and, sailing down the English Channel, we entered the Bay of Biscay and touched at our first port, which was Bordeaux. From thence we sailed again, and—just before Christmas it was, I remember—we cleared the Straits of Jebel-al-Tarik, as the Moors call them, and entered the great inland sea. We coasted down its shores, touching first at Barcelona, for we were not then at war with Spain, and then at Marseilles, from which port we struck across for Sicily, intending to call at Palermo. But on the way there we fell in with a Barbary corsair. Our captain was a brave man, and determined to fight to the last, as he had a very valuable cargo on board. The fight began early in the morning, and the pirate tried at first to ram our ship with his sharp beak; but the wind was good, and our ship was so nimble, and answered her helm so well, that we were able to avoid the rushes of the corsair, although he nearly had us on one occasion. Finding that these tactics did not answer, he drew off and, turning his broadside to us, lacked us through and through with his ordnance until we were a mere floating wreck, and half our ship's company lay dead on our decks. We replied as well as we could; but, being only a merchant-ship, we were not nearly so heavily armed as the corsair; and, our men being untrained in warfare, very few of our shot hit him, so that the rascal was but little the worse. Their captain then hailed us, and asked whether we would surrender; but the master of the Delight shouted back that if he wanted the ship he must come and take her.

"Whereat he came at us again, and laid himself alongside us, we not being able to move by this time, owing to our having lost all our masts, and being so encumbered with wreckage that we could do nothing. About a hundred fierce and bloodthirsty ruffians swarmed aboard us and began to cut us down and drive us toward the fore-part of the ship, while we, on our side, fought bravely enough with what weapons we could lay our hands on. But at last our gallant captain fell dead, cut down by the scimitar of a gigantic blackamoor, and the rest of us—very few by that time, I can assure you,—seeing this, threw down our arms and surrendered to the corsairs. There were then but seventeen of us left, all told, and not one of us but had his wound to show as the result of the fight. Five out of that seventeen, indeed, were so badly wounded that they died of their hurts before the corsair reached her port, leaving only twelve of us, all Englishmen, to be sent into slavery. After the corsairs had removed us to their own ship, they stripped the Delight of all that she carried, transferring all her cargo to their own hold. They were greatly pleased at the result of their day's work—for they had made a good haul—and made all haste to return to their port, which was Tunis. But before bearing up they set fire to our ship, and when we last saw the Delight she was blazing merrily. I make no doubt that she sank shortly afterwards, leaving no trace behind."

"You'm wrong there, mate," broke in Jake Irwin. "Don't you mind that it rained heavily soon afterwards? Well, the rain put out the fire, and an English ship comin' up found her still smoulderin', with enough of her left to show that she was the Delight. She brought the news of the loss of the Delight into Plymouth—I remember hearin' all about it,— and it was thought she had took fire in the ordinary way, and that her crew, havin' gone off in the boats, was a'terwards lost. No one ever gave a thought to pirates or corsairs."

"Ah," resumed Evans, "would to God that that vessel had come up sooner! We should have been saved—those left of us—from a living death that lasted for many years. Yes, now you come to mention it, I remember the rain; but we never dreamed that it would put out the fire, for we left her burning furiously. Well, the other ship was too late, and it makes no difference now. But, to get on with my yarn. We reached the port of Tunis about ten days later, and there was much joy there when it was found what a valuable cargo the corsair had brought back; and the joy was all the greater because of the twelve white prisoners, for white slaves are reckoned very valuable in those parts, and there hadn't been any taken for a very long while. We were all put up to auction, and the man who bid highest got the man he fancied. A big Moor from the back-country took a liking for me, for I was a fine strapping youngster then, although you mightn't think it to look at me now. Well, he bought me, but me only; so I said good-bye to my comrades, never expecting to see them again, and we set off with my master's caravan for the interior.

"His home must have been some hundreds of miles in the interior, for it took us over two months of travelling every day to get there. We struck from the town of Tunis south-eastwards, as I could tell by the sun. After travelling for a long time we came to a big river, with fields of rice on each side of it, and beyond them the burning desert, with hills and mountains behind that again. When we came to the river we left the camels, and proceeded in boats until we came to a mighty waterfall, where we quitted the river for a time, and went a little way overland; then we took to the river again. This we did four times, and at last, after more than two months, travelling all the time, we came to a big town, built all of white stone, very fine to see. All around were green places like parks, with wells of good water in them; and there were palm-trees all about, and palaces of white marble; it was a lovely place for a free man to live in, but for a slave it was dreadful.

"Well, my masters, I was kept here for ten long years, during which I learnt the language, and found that the city in which I dwelt was named Khartoum. Then I began to fall ill; I looked old with suffering, and could not do the tasks allotted to me. I was whipped, and burnt with red-hot irons; but even such cruelties as these did not make me do any more work—for indeed I was more dead than alive,—so at last my master said he would send me down the river to the sea-coast, and sell me there as a galley-slave, as I was of no more use to him, while I should be made to work when I was in the galleys. So, with six others in like condition, I was sent off one morning, in charge of a guard, down the river, passing on our way six waterfalls or cataracts, as also many ruined temples and palaces of great age and beauty, with no men in them.

"After nearly two months of travelling, having passed many towns and villages on the way, we came one morning to a place on the river where we halted; and away in the desert I could see three great buildings, broad and square at the bottom, rising to a great height, and terminating in a point. I asked about them of our captors, and they told me that they were tombs of ancient kings of Egypt, and of great age.

"Leaving these, we went on again, and in course of time came to the city of Alexandria, where our journey ended. We stayed there several weeks, and then I—being by this time recovered from my sickness,—with the other six men, was sold to the captain of a corsair galley, who wanted a few more slaves to make up his complement of rowers.

"And now began the worst years of my life. For six long years, my masters, I sweated in a hot sun, with no shelter; toiling at the great heavy sweeps with the other slaves; always kept to our work by the whip of the bo'sun. Ah, the torment of those years! The recollection of them would never leave me, were I to live to the age of the patriarchs of old. We pursued other craft—mostly merchantmen—and took them; and those of the slaves who were killed by the shot of the other ships were replaced by their crews.

"Many a time did I pray that I should be one of those to find death; but it never came to me, though often enough to the men by my side. At last, one day we attacked a Spanish vessel—for we had gone down towards the Straits of Jebel-al-Tarik—that looked like a harmless merchant-ship, but she proved to be a war-ship disguised on purpose to take us, and others like us. After more than an hour's fighting, during which nearly all our men were killed, she took us; and I, with the other Englishmen on board the galley, gave thanks to God, for we foolishly thought that all our troubles were now over. But we were soon to find out our mistake. There was now war between England and Spain, and we quickly discovered that we had merely made an exchange of masters.

"We were taken on board the Spaniard and the galley was sunk. Her owners were all hanged, being heathens, but we Englishmen were considered heretics, and we were to be reserved for the Holy Inquisition, that that office might convert us from our sins, and 'save us from everlasting flame', as the Spanish Dons put it. We were landed at Cartagena, in Spain, and I, with eight others, was thrown into prison, to await my trial at the hands of the Holy Office. One by one we were tried, and all found guilty of 'heresy'. Then they asked if we would recant. We all refused, with the natural result that we were put to the torture. Oh, my masters, pray daily and nightly that you may never fall into the hands of the Holy Inquisition! Those years that I spent on the galley were as heaven compared to being in the hands of the Dons.

"I will not tell you how they tortured us—for indeed the story will not bear telling,—but I bear the marks of their irons and the rack to this day. My companions steadfastly refused to renounce their faith, and after enduring the most hideous and awful tortures they were burnt alive. I know not whether my tortures were worse than theirs, but at last I could bear them no longer, and I recanted, to gain release from my daily pain. But I was mistaken in supposing that this late conversion was going to save me. I was tortured again, for my past obstinacy, and then, instead of being released, I was sent to their galleys, to spend the remainder of my life therein. By turning Romanist I had indeed saved myself from burning, but not from that living hell, the life of a galley-slave.

"I was, then, sent to the galleys, and remained there, how long I know not, but it seemed to be several years. During the time that I was in the Spanish galley—for I remained on the same vessel all the time,—we, together with other vessels, made several attacks upon English ships, but we were beaten off with heavy loss in every case except one, and that was when we captured a small English merchantman called the Dainty, the unfortunate crew of which, I suppose, were put into the Inquisition, as I had been. These many conflicts were productive of heavy casualties among the slaves, many more, indeed, than among the soldiers and sailors who composed our fighting-crew, for, when chasing another vessel, or attacking her broadside to broadside, our enemy generally depressed his guns in order to hull and if possible sink us, as in that way only could they prevent us from running alongside. And every shot that pierced a galley's hull was certain to kill or maim at least four or five slaves. But our masters cared nothing for that; when one crew of galley-slaves was exhausted, another batch was sent for to take their place. There were always plenty of slaves to be had from the Spanish prisons, and the men we got from them were an even more cruel and wicked set of rascals than the men who called themselves our masters.

"Well, I had been a galley-slave among the Spaniards for some years—how many years, exactly, I cannot tell you, for after a time my senses became so deadened that I could not take the trouble to count up and remember the days and weeks as they passed; indeed I became more like an animal than a human being. I had been with the Spaniards for several years, I say, when one day we sighted an English merchantman, as we thought, and chased her. She appeared to be sailing but slowly, and we very soon caught her up, to find that we had walked, or rather sailed, into a deeply-laid trap. The Englishman, it appeared, had adopted a ruse similar to that practised by the Spaniards when they captured the corsair from Alexandria. The English had disguised their vessel—which was a war-ship—to look like an innocent and harmless merchant's trading-vessel, and to retard her speed and allow us to come up with her they had dropped overboard a couple of light spars connected together by a broad piece of stout sail-cloth, the whole of the apparatus being secured to the stern of the vessel by a stout rope. Thus the passage of the ship through the water caused this piece of canvas between the two spars to open, when it acted as a drag upon her, and reduced her speed so considerably that we soon overtook her. But no sooner were we well under her guns than she opened fire, and before we could get alongside her she had worked fearful execution both among our fighting-crew and also the slaves. Our eyes were now opened to the true character of the vessel, and the crew no longer had any desire to come to close quarters with her; so they put up their helm and bore away with all speed for Cadiz, the port nearest to us.

"And then began a chase that I shall never forget so long as I live, sirs. With our full crew we might perhaps have been a match for the English ship in point of speed, but half our galley-slaves were killed, and the Englishman, having now cut away his drag, was coming up with us hand over hand. The slave-drivers came down among us, and, standing on the drivers' plank, running down the centre of the galley, drove us to superhuman exertions by the merciless blows of their heavy-thonged whips, the lashes of which were plaited up with small lead balls on them. They even used the flat of their sword-blades to our backs, and after that, when the English ship still continued to overhaul us, they drew the edges of their weapons along our flesh, making the blood spurt. We were, as you perhaps know, all manacled together, and at least half our slaves were killed by the enemy's shot. The floor of the vessel was ankle-deep in blood, and the corpses of the dead, still manacled to the living—for there was no time to separate us,—kept time with our strokes as we pulled, in a manner most horrible to look upon. The man next me had had his head cut off by a cannon-shot—I remember at the time wishing it had been mine,—and with every stroke I pulled his corpse moved also, and with each movement jets of blood gushed up from the torn veins, which were protruding from the gory neck, and flooded me. Well, the vessel still continued to gain on us, and I saw the Spanish dogs of slave-drivers whispering together, and presently they called for buckets of fire. These were brought, full of glowing charcoal, and into them irons were thrust. The unhappy slaves saw what was in store for them, and pulled until their muscles cracked. Soon the irons were white-hot, and the chief driver called to us in Spanish: 'We must escape that cursed heretic-ship yonder. Now, you all see these irons? If I see one of you flagging in your efforts, that man will be branded with them, and when we get into harbour will be handed over to the office of the Holy Inquisition as a heretic and an aider and abettor of heretics.' This cruel threat drove us all nearly mad, and—for we knew what that meant—our muscles cracked again as we laboured on at the oars, hampered as we were by the bloody corpses of our fellow-slaves. For myself, I was away from the centre of the galley, I thank God! and near an open port, so I got a little air, which refreshed me; but I presently saw one of the poor fellows near the middle of the vessel, where the air was stifling, begin to relax his exertions. He was fainting with the heat and fatigue of the chase. The chief slave-driver, whose name, I remember, was Alvarez, saw it too, and called out: 'Juan, this heretic is fainting; bring the fire-bucket.'

"The man brought it; Alvarez took out a white-hot iron, and—oh, sirs, I cannot describe what then happened, but I can hear that man's shrieks now, as I tell of it! It was awful; and would shrivel my tongue to relate, and your ears to hear. Well, sirs, not to harrow you further by those fearful methods of making us work, we at last got into Cadiz, and escaped the English ship; but more than half of the remaining slaves died from their exertions.

"Our diminished crew was replenished by a lot of men from the prisons of Spain, and among them was a man named Jose Leirya. This man was my evil genius; and, as he marked the turning-point in my life from good to evil, I may as well describe his appearance; for he is on these seas now, and I wish you to know the man, so that if you should meet him with a sufficient force to capture him, you may recognise the villain. He was sent down to the galley one morning with a number of other men, to make up her complement afresh after the encounter with the Englishman. I recognised him for a leader of men the moment he came aboard the galley, and, as he was chained next to me on the same tier, I had ample opportunity for observing his appearance. He was an enormously tall and broad man, of extremely dark complexion. He said he was of Portugal, but I should say he had more Moorish blood in him than anything else. He wore his hair long, and it fell in thick black ringlets over his broad shoulders. A huge moustache concealed his lips, and a long black beard hid his chin; indeed the man was so hairy that he had the appearance of being an ape rather than a man. One of his eyes—which were jet black in colour, with whites which turned red when he flew into a rage—had a very perceptible cast in it; the left eye, I remember it was. His nose had been broken, and had a tremendous twist to starboard; and he had lost his right ear in a stabbing affray in the streets of Lisbon. In the left he now wears a huge gold ear-ring, shaped something like a nut, with an enormous emerald set in it. Such was the exterior appearance of the man who was to change both my life and that of others, Jose Leirya, murderer and galley-slave, then mutineer, and, lastly, pirate and villain of villains, slayer of hundreds of innocent folk, slave-dealer, incendiary, and bloodthirsty monster, for whom no death is bad enough. Remember my description of the man, sirs, for he presents the very same appearance at the present day. I should know, for but two short months since I was on his vessel; and, God forgive me, I believe I was not much better than he. But to continue my yarn. This man came aboard with about a hundred others; and I perceived at once—although our jailers did not seem to notice the fact—that there was some kind of arrangement or understanding between Jose Leirya and a number of the new galley-slaves. What it meant I did not know until afterwards. We left Cadiz, and our captain, thinking perhaps that the Mediterranean Sea was not suitable for his enterprises, determined to take the galley to the West Indies and try his fortune there. So we started away across the great Atlantic Ocean.

"As I have told you, Jose Leirya was chained next to me; but he never once spoke to me until after we had left the Western Isles. A few days after that, however, he one evening disclosed to me his plan for seizing the galley, and I then knew what the understanding had been between himself and a large number of the prisoners who came aboard the galley with him. On a certain night—which would fall about eight days later— at midnight, on a given signal, all were to rise and overpower the soldiers and sailors of the ship, seize her for ourselves, and use her for our own purposes. You will ask, how were we to get rid of our manacles? Well, it was thus arranged, sirs. Jose Leirya had brought on board, cunningly concealed in his clothing, a number of small saws, of exceeding fine temper and sharpness. They would cut through our manacles as a knife cuts through wood. These he gave out to some of the slaves, and on the night arranged they were to cut the links of their iron manacles and pass the tools on to the others. This would, of course, leave the iron rings round our wrists and ankles, but we should be free to move and fight; and after we had won the ship we could get the rings off at our leisure. The saws were given out one by one, the greatest care being taken that they were not discovered, and immediately after dark on the eventful night we began to cut our fetters, the galley being then under sail and the oars laid in. By midnight we were ready, and waiting for the signal. It came as a shrill whistle from Leirya's lips. At the sound we all swarmed up on deck; and, as most of the officers and seamen were asleep below, we quickly overcame the watch. We gave no quarter, knowing that none would be given to us, and we took no prisoners. Then, going to the companion-hatches, we cried 'Fire!' and as our former masters came running up in their shirts, they were seized and flung overboard. None of them suspected any plot, and the vessel was soon in our hands.

"We then took counsel among ourselves to elect officers, and determine upon our future movements. Jose Leirya was, of course, elected captain, and, for some reason that I cannot make out, I was chosen for first mate. Then for our plans. We were about in the middle of the North Atlantic, perhaps a little more than half-way to the West Indian Islands; so we determined to run there, take a ship on our way, if we could, and if not, capture one in the first port we could reach—for the galley was of little use to us for our purposes. Ah! if I had but known, if I could but have foreseen what was to happen in the future, what deeds I should be called upon to do, rather would I have suffered death by torture than have joined in the mutiny! But I did not then know that Jose Leirya intended to become a pirate, or that he meditated those awful atrocities that have made men curse his name, and swear to hunt him down and make his end worse than a dog's! At length, when the ship had been ours for a matter of fifteen days, and was approaching the islands, our lookout one afternoon reported a large ship coming up from the westward. Our hearts leaped with anticipation, but we kept a very cautious lookout lest she should prove to be a war-vessel. As she came nearer, however, we saw that she was a large merchant-vessel flying the flag of Spain—that country that we had grown to hate with a hatred passing words. She had not noticed us as yet, for we lay low in the water and had no sail set. As soon, however, as she saw us coming toward her, she made all sail to escape, and we followed in full pursuit. Then, finding that we were gaining upon her, she went about, evidently with the intention of returning to the islands; but she was doomed to be our prey. Every man of us, even Leirya himself, joined the crew of oarsmen below, leaving only the helmsman on deck to steer and to report progress to us below. Thus every oar was fully manned, and we swept along after her, gaining on her hand over hand, until about the middle of the afternoon the man at the helm threw us alongside her—for she was unarmed with cannon and could not fire at us—and we all swarmed up from below and on to her decks. Such was our ferocity that we cleared their deck at once, leaving dead and wounded in our path, the whole of whom—quick and dead alike—we at once flung overboard.

"We did not require the galley any longer, so we took all her guns and arms, and furnished the ship with them, sinking the galley afterwards, and thus hiding all trace of our former crime. We got under way directly after this, still making for the islands, and then provisions and wine, of which there were plenty on the ship, were got up, and we caroused and made merry for the rest of the day.

"We soon found that the new vessel was not suitable for us; but she was ere long the means of enabling us to obtain another to suit our purpose, without any loss of life to us."



CHAPTER TEN.

WILLIAM EVANS CONTINUES HIS YARN.

"We were now about two days' sail from the island of Porto Rico, and we had discovered from the ship's papers that it was from the Port of San Juan in that island that she had recently sailed.

"The name of the craft was the Villa de Vera Cruz, and our plan was to re-christen her, alter her rig and general appearance, and sail boldly into the Port of San Juan, hoping to be taken for some vessel just arrived from Spain or elsewhere. Then, if unmolested, we should examine the harbour; and, if it were found to contain any vessel suitable for our purpose, the plan was that we were to wait for nightfall, and then board the other vessel by means of the boats, capture her, and sail out of the harbour again before daylight with both vessels. And when once well out of sight of land, and reasonably safe from pursuit, all the survivors of her crew, if any, were to be killed and flung overboard. All stores, cargo, and guns were to be transferred to the new capture, and our present craft sunk—as we had done with the galley.

"It had become a saying with us that 'dead men tell no tales'; so it was agreed to kill every soul we captured, taking care that none escaped us. We should thus—so we believed—keep our movements secret for some considerable period at any rate. For—it is useless for me to attempt to disguise the fact—we had not been in possession of our prize twenty-four hours ere we had agreed to start piracy in earnest, preying on all nations, and selecting some nook where we could hide what treasure we captured.

"Well, we duly arrived in the roads of San Juan, and anchored well out of gunshot from the forts, seemingly without exciting any suspicion whatever. We carefully examined the roadstead, and there, sure enough, was just the craft for our purpose; but she was lying right under the guns of the fort. She was a pretty vessel: schooner-rigged, very low in the water, and—as we found out when we took her—of very deep draught; broad in the beam, and 'flush-decked' fore and aft, with no raised fore or after castles. We could see, by her open ports, that she carried twelve guns of a side—nine-pounders they were,—with a long gun forward of her foremast that threw a thirty-two pound shot. She was therefore quite heavily armed enough for our purpose, and there would be no need to transfer our old guns to her when she was captured; and we should thus be saved a great deal of labour. Her masts were very long and tapering, with a big rake aft, and from a distance the vessel looked overmasted; but when one got on board her one saw that her great width of beam gave her the stiffness necessary to carry such lofty masts with their corresponding spread of sail. In short, she was just what we wanted, and, indeed, we could not have had a ship better suited to our purpose even though we had built her ourselves. Needless to say, we determined to cut her out from under the guns of the fort, and capture her, at any risk, that very night. During the day we got up our arms, loaded our pistols, sharpened up our swords and cutlasses, and got all ready for the night attack. We were in a fever of impatience to try our luck, and could hardly bring ourselves to wait until dark, still less until midnight, which we decided was the earliest hour at which we could make an attempt. So great was our excitement and impatience that we strove to allay them by drinking raw spirits continually; and by night we were mad with drink, the only effect of which was to turn us into a gang of demons who would stop at nothing. It was perhaps due to the drink—though we did not know it—that we actually took the vessel after all; for we encountered a most stubborn resistance; and had there been any people in the fort, they would certainly have opened fire upon us, and we should have been killed to a man. Luckily, as it happened, for us, there was a carnival in progress in the town that night, and nearly every man in the place was attending it. Those who had not got leave deserted, and went all the same, even to the last sentry; so that when we made our attack there was not a solitary soldier in the fort.

"At length the hour came; we got our boats over noiselessly, and pulled away toward the schooner. It was dark as the inside of a wolf's mouth, and there was but little phosphorescence in the water. We pulled with muffled oars, and were nearly alongside her, when someone on board must have caught a glimpse of the faint flash as our oars dipped, for we heard a voice giving the alarm on board in Spanish. Seemingly they did not want us to know that they were on the alert, and reckoned on giving us the surprise we intended for them; but we had caught the low words of warning, and knew that they were ready for us. We laid our boats alongside one another, and held a whispered council, as a result of which we very slowly and cautiously pulled round to the farther side of the vessel, and boarded her silently there, falling upon the Spaniards in the rear. This was the saving of us, for they had lined the bulwarks on the other side, and had we attempted to board on that side we should never have been successful.

"The fight was fierce and grim, and, strangely enough, silent; there was not a cry, save the groans and moans of the wounded and dying. We struggled and fought in silence, and in the dark it was difficult to tell friend from foe. At length, to make my long story a little shorter, we drove them below, and, cutting the vessel's cable, made sail for the open sea. We had agreed to show a red light to our own vessel, as a signal for her to slip out also, if we were successful; so we looked round for a red lantern, and presently found one. The signal was made, and immediately answered by three flashes of a white light from our old ship, as decided upon before leaving her. Both craft were soon under way for the open sea, and kept each other in view by the light of the stars; and at daybreak we could only just see the land. We kept on, however, until mid-day, to make ourselves doubly safe, by which time we had run the land out of sight; when both craft were hove-to. Then the crew of the prize were brought up on deck; and as we were, after our recent rights, very short-handed, we gave them the choice of joining us or of walking the plank. They were, for the most part, a rascally lot of men, and did not need the persuasion of 'the plank' to join us; indeed they seemed glad to have the opportunity. By this means we replenished our crew, and our total number now exceeded by forty-nine that which we were before taking the galley. We had, therefore, a crew of two hundred and twenty-five men, which was a big crew for so small a ship. But then, as Leirya said, we had to provide against casualties. Seventeen men walked the plank, rather than join us, and after that we made the necessary transfer of stores and other material, and sank our old vessel. We were now ready and well equipped for our piratical undertaking, and we started at once on our nefarious career.

"I cannot recount to you all that took place, for many long years have passed since I first threw in my lot with that scoundrel, Jose Leirya; but we took countless ships, and accumulated a vast amount of treasure, the most part of which is buried in a certain spot. I know the bay where the hiding-place is; but exactly where the 'cache' itself is I know not. Of that, however, a little later on. To shorten my story—of which I expect you are now heartily tired—I will pass over my life and experiences during the years that I have been with the pirate, until about six months ago. But I must tell you first that, what with fights, disease, punishment by death, accident, and so on, our crew gradually changed until I and two others, with Jose Leirya himself, were the only survivors of the original galley-slaves. The other men hated me, and for some time had been putting about false reports of me, and other matters to my great harm, until at length Leirya said he would get rid of me. The men clamoured for my death, for I had often sent others of them to their death; but Jose refused to kill me, as I had been so long with him. He promised to maroon me, however, and the scoundrels had to be satisfied with that promise. They made many attempts, however, to murder me, but I escaped them all.

"We did not sight an island for some time, and now, every day, I brooded over the wrong Jose had done me in listening to the lies of others, and acceding to their demands, and I determined to have my revenge on him. He had always trusted me, and did so still, and I had a key that fitted the lock of his cabin. One day we sighted a ship; and, as it fell calm, the boats were ordered out to pull to her and capture her. Nearly all hands went, including Leirya himself, but I remained behind to help look after the schooner. While they were away, I went into the captain's cabin, and, finding his keys in the pocket of a jacket of his that hung there, I opened his private drawer and took out all the papers that were there, putting back blank ones of similar appearance to those that I had stolen, relocked the drawer, and replaced the key. I then hid the papers in my own chest, which I was certain Jose would allow me to take. I will tell you why I stole those papers. It was because I thought I should find the key to his hidden treasure among them; and I was not mistaken. I found it, or what I believe to be it, but it was in cipher; and I have spent nearly all my time since I have been on the island in trying to translate it, but have not been able to do so. I know, however, whereabout the bay is in which the hiding-place is situated. It is at the east end of the island of Cuba, in latitude 20 degrees north, longitude 75 degrees west.

"I have those papers still; and before I die I will give them to you, Master Trevose. They may be useful to you; and if you can translate the cipher, why, there are millions there for you, unless, indeed, Jose Leirya removes them before you can get there. Well, sirs, Jose did not discover the loss by the time that we fell in with this sand-bank, and, according to his promise to the crew, I was marooned here; but he gave me a musket, with powder and ball, and enough provision to keep me for a year. The men who went in the boat to put me ashore were, however, my most deadly enemies; and before we reached the shore, and when they were far enough away from the vessel not to be seen, they dropped musket and all overboard, leaving me only a very little provision, saying that they did not wish me to die too soon. Then, after landing me, they returned, the ship disappeared, and I have seen no sail but yours since they left me here two months ago. That, gentlemen, is my story. To help you hunt down that bloody pirate, however, I will tell you that he intended sailing up through the bays of Honduras and Guatemala, and through the Yucatan channel into the Gulf of Mexico, to cruise there for merchantmen sailing to and from Vera Cruz and the other ports. And it is there that you will find him, sirs. Chase him; run him down; take him, at all costs, and hang him and his crew from his own yard-arm, and burn his ship; so shall you exterminate one of the most cruel, ferocious, bloodthirsty devils who ever sailed the sea, and avenge me, sirs. For I shall soon die; the hardship and exposure that I have suffered here have killed me! But now that I have told you my story, I can die comfortably, for I have only lived to impart my information to someone else, and so help them to hunt that man down. But see, the dawn is breaking!"

The other three had been so intensely interested in the outcast's tale that the time had passed unnoticed, and the first streaks of dawn were indeed in the sky. Moreover, the wind had dropped, the rain had ceased, and the sea was going down. The unfortunate ex-pirate seemed exhausted by the long recital of his experiences, and looked very weak. Presently he laid himself down on the sand under his shelter, and fell fast asleep through sheer fatigue. The others went outside and took a survey of the beach, and were lucky enough to be able to collect quite a respectable quantity of wreckage, together with several casks of provisions. And they could see several more being gradually washed in, so they were in no danger of starvation, at all events for the present. They at once began to roll up the casks to the shelter, promising themselves a good meal before beginning the work of collecting all on which they could lay their hands. They resolved to collect all that they could, for it was impossible to be sure as to when the three vessels of Cavendish's fleet would return; they knew that there were too many vicissitudes in a sailor's life to permit of their absolutely depending upon anything, and they therefore resolved to make every possible provision for a lengthy stay where they were, should such prove to be necessary. That Cavendish would never abandon them they knew, but it was easy to think of a dozen circumstances or accidents to defer his search for them indefinitely.

Roger and the two seamen rolled up a few of the casks to the door of the little shelter, and, all feeling very hungry, they determined to broach one of them, as they judged from their appearance that they were provision-casks. They first glanced at the marooned man, to see if he had yet awakened from the slumber into which he had so suddenly fallen, but he was lying in his former position, breathing very heavily, and he had evidently not moved since they left him. Roger remarked to the two seamen: "I fear that poor fellow will not live much longer; he says he is exhausted by exposure and privation, and, looking at him, I can easily believe it. I hope he will live long enough to be taken on board the ships, and so be able to tell his story in his own words to the captain; but unless the squadron appear very soon it will be too late, for I am afraid a few days will see the last of him!" Then, as there seemed no fear of rousing him, they went into the shelter to look for themselves and see how much provision he had left. They found it without difficulty. There was only about three pounds of ships'-biscuit left, and two or three strips of dried meat. This was absolutely all the food that was left, and had it not been for the wreck, and the casks of provisions being washed ashore, their position would have been very serious indeed. Jake Irwin had been searching for some cooking utensil, or some article which could be used as such, and presently appeared with an iron three-legged pot, which was the only thing in the small establishment that would serve their purpose. Meanwhile Roger and Walter Bevan had secured the ex-pirate's only axe, and were busily engaged in removing the head of one of the casks which they had rolled up opposite to the little shelter. The top presently came away, and they saw, disclosed before their longing and hungry eyes, not the provisions they so much needed, but a hard and rocky mass of caked gunpowder, made useless and solid by the action of the sea-water that had penetrated through the crevices of the cask.

"God help us!" exclaimed Roger. "If all these casks hold nothing but powder, we shall slowly starve to death. I hoped they would all be provision-casks; I never thought they would contain aught else!"

"Never despair, Master Trevose," replied Bevan, "they may not be all the same. Let us try another cask. We may have better luck this time."

Disheartened and anxious, they set to work, desperate with hunger, and beat in the head of the next cask with savage blows. And, oh joy! in this cask they at length found the much-needed food in the form of salt pork, with which the barrel was filled.

"Hurrah," shouted Roger, "we are saved after all!"

They took out two large pieces. Jake Irwin filled the pot with water from the spring, and, having soon made a fire, they set the meat on to boil. The savoury odour of the cooking meat soon met their nostrils and encouraged them to fresh efforts on the other casks. Strangely enough, though the first cask opened was filled with spoilt gunpowder, all the rest of the barrels had good wholesome provisions in them. The second barrel opened was found to contain ships'-biscuit, the third and fourth salt pork; the fifth had beef in it, and in one or two more casks they found further food, sufficient in all to last them for some months without going on short rations. It was not long ere the meat was sufficiently cooked to satisfy them, and they went in to call Evans and acquaint him with the fact that he could now have a good wholesome meal. They aroused him with great difficulty, and he seemed to be weaker than ever. He revived somewhat under the stimulating influence of the hot food, and told them that if only he had had such food a little earlier it would have saved his life.

Their meal finished, they got up a few more casks which had meanwhile come ashore, and gathered more wreckage, piling all their material recovered from the sea in a place of safety well above high-water mark. Having at length collected everything in sight on the beach, the next thing they set themselves to do was to find a suitable spot and erect, with the wreckage that they had found, a hut large enough to contain the entire party with comfort. But first, as Roger very rightly observed, it was necessary and prudent to build a fire the smoke of which could be seen out at sea, and which might serve as a guide to Cavendish in his search for the sand-bank should he happen to be looking for it. Their plan was to feed the fire with damp wood and sea-weed during the day, to produce a thick smoke that could be seen at a long distance out at sea, and to put on dry wood at night to make a bright blaze which could also be seen a long way off. This was soon done, and a site was then selected for the projected hut. Among the palm-trees on the summit of the bank were three trees so placed as to form the points of a fairly spacious triangle. Roger selected these, intending to nail or otherwise secure planks to their trunks, making a three-sided enclosure; leaving space, of course, in one of the sides for a door. A roof they believed they could dispense with, as the trees were not very high, and the tufts of leaves at their summits were so thick, and grew so close together, that it seemed very doubtful whether even the furious rain of the tropics would be able to penetrate them. They found a number of nails in the planks and timbers which they had collected, and these served their purpose. Roger, Jake Irwin, and Walter Bevan worked right manfully at the job of erecting the new hut, and in a few hours it was finished. Evans, poor fellow, was far too weak to take a hand in any of the operations, and lay in his shelter almost unable to move. When the new hut was finished, the builders found the man too far gone to walk, so they brought some planks and put him on them, carrying him up in that way. He was laid gently down and made as comfortable as possible under the circumstances. A pannikin of water was left with him, and some cold provisions placed near him in case he should feel hungry. The others then went away to seek further wreckage and casks, but they found no more. Then they decided to make another shelter wherein to protect their provisions. It was thought advisable to construct this place near the new hut; so the old shelter—such as it was—was taken down and replaced close behind their new structure, and the casks, barrels, and other perishable matters were placed therein as being safer, as well as easier to get at at all times. They were now fairly settled down in their new domain; they had shelter, and plenty of food to last for some months, even on full rations. There was water in abundance to be had from the spring, and altogether their lot was far and away more satisfactory and endurable than that of the poor marooned pirate had been. Besides, there were now four of them, and they had the advantage and comfort of each other's company, while Evans had been entirely alone with only his own miserable thoughts for companions until Roger and his two seamen made their welcome appearance on the sand-bank. It occurred to Roger that it would be a very good thing to have a flag and flag-staff, because their fuel would not last for ever, and with it would go their only means of signalling to passing ships; so several narrow pieces of wood were nailed together, and the two seamen, both of whom were wearing red shirts, sacrificed those garments in the interests of the community. The lad then split them both down one side, to increase the area of his improvised ensign, and tied the arms together to increase the length. This "flag" was then nailed to the makeshift flag-staff, and Roger and Jake Irwin swarmed up a palm-tree—one of the three composing the posts for the support of the walls of their hut, while Walter Bevan passed up the flag and staff to them from below. Then Roger, with his sword, which he had carried up naked between his teeth, cut away part of the foliage, and the staff was pushed up through the hole thus made, the lower portion being secured to the top of the trunk of the palm-tree. Both men then scrambled down to the ground again and looked up at their handiwork. There it fluttered, far above the tufted crowns of the palm-grove, a large red flag at the top of its lengthy staff, some eighty feet above the ground, and visible, as they judged, at a distance of at least ten miles out at sea on a clear day. This, as Roger remarked, gave them an extra chance of being recovered by the fleet, as the flag would be seen at almost as great a distance as the smoke from the fire, while the two together ensured their being sighted by any vessel that approached the island within ten miles.

Satisfied at last with their work, and seeing that there was nothing further for them to do at the moment, Roger determined to make a tour of their little domain; so, leaving Jake Irwin to attend to the sick man Evans, Roger and Walter Bevan set off. Starting from a point on the beach opposite the hut, they began their walk, going towards the eastern end of the sand-bank. They found that the shore was everywhere sand until they had gone some half a mile and nearly reached the end of the island, when they came upon a ledge of rocks over which they had to clamber, and which stretched out for quite a long distance into the sea. The two ventured out some few hundred yards along the ridge to seaward, and found that it had deep water on each side of it, the rock seeming to run perpendicularly down to the sandy bottom. The place struck them as being an excellent situation for fishing from if only they possessed hooks and lines, for, peering down into the water—which was clear as crystal,—they saw all manner of many-hued and beautiful fish disporting themselves below. They gazed admiringly and somewhat longingly at them for a few minutes, determining to return later and attempt to catch some, and then resumed their explorations. They had not gone very far, and were walking side by side, when Roger stumbled over an inequality in the surface of the sand. He passed on, taking no notice of the circumstance, thinking it to be only a stone or piece of rock covered up by the sand; but Bevan, who had noticed the occurrence, stepped back, and, dropping on his knees, began to clear away the sand with his fingers, presently revealing to Roger's wondering eyes a number of eggs.

"Whatever are those?" exclaimed the lad, hardly able to believe his senses. "I suppose they are eggs; they look like eggs; but I have never before heard of eggs being buried in sand."

"These, Master Trevose," responded the man, smiling at Roger's astonishment, "are turtles' eggs, and they are excellent eating, I can assure you. They will be a grand change of food for us, as will the fish when we can catch them. Moreover, having laid these eggs here, the turtle may very possibly come back to this spot to lay more. We will look out for her, and if she returns we must turn her over on her back and then go back and fetch Jake, who will help us to carry her to the hut. We need not worry about fresh meat now, Master Trevose. If we can catch turtle we shall have meat enough to last us for some time."

"I am rejoiced to hear you say so," returned Roger. "But why turn the turtle on her back, should she make her appearance?"

"Well, sir," replied the man, "the way of it is this. By turnin' a turtle over on its back you can always make certain that, if you're obliged to go away and leave it, you'll find it in the same place when you come back; because if a turtle's laid on its back it can't turn over again by itself, and so is perfectly helpless and unable to move."

There were fourteen eggs in the "nest" in the sand; so Roger took off his coat, and, tying the arms together, made a sort of bag of it, into which he carefully put a few of the eggs. Then, carrying his parcel very carefully, they resumed their journey. They found no more eggs at that time, and discovered nothing further of importance, and shortly afterwards arrived back at the hut, having completed their walk round the islet.

Irwin reported that the man Evans had called for water, and had seemed in great pain, but had revived a little after drinking, and was now again asleep.

The two explorers deposited their burden of eggs, and told Jake of their hopes regarding the turtle, arranging to go down again later and watch for the creature, knowing how important it was to their health to secure as varied a diet as possible. But before setting out again they put a few of the eggs into the hot ashes of the fire and baked them in their shells. When they thought they would be sufficiently cooked, they took them out of the ashes, and roused Evans up with the news that another meal was ready for him.



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

DEATH OF WILLIAM EVANS, AND APPEARANCE OF A PIRATE VESSEL.

It was with the utmost difficulty that they at length succeeded in arousing the unfortunate man to a sense of his surroundings. Ever since their landing on the sand-bank the poor fellow had been sinking with startling rapidity. It seemed as though prior to their appearance he had kept himself alive by a sheer effort of will, for the sole purpose of relating his story and putting the avengers on the trail of his former captain; and, this done, the strain was relaxed, and nature was claiming her due. Evans at last sat up with great difficulty, passing his hand over his forehead and gazing at his companions and around at the new hut as though he had never seen either them or it before.

The three on-lookers felt an infinite compassion for the unfortunate outcast; and although he had been, by his own showing, a party to the most dreadful atrocities, yet Roger and the seamen felt that it was not for them to judge him. They recognised that he had never been a willing participator in the horrors he had described, and in their opinion he had fully expiated his offences by the suffering and agony of remorse which he had endured on the sand-bank. Roger tenderly supported the emaciated frame in his arms, and tried to coax some food down the sick man's throat; but he weakly pushed away the hands of the would-be benefactor, and, the light of reason presently returning to his eye, he said he could eat nothing, but pleaded for a draught of water. This was at once given him, and, seeing that the man was too weak to swallow anything solid, Roger ceased to persuade him. In a few minutes the poor fellow was again sunk in a profound stupor. As no more could be done for him, the others turned their attention to their own meal, and, being ravenously hungry, did full justice to the food before them, averring that they had never in the whole course of their lives tasted anything half so enjoyable, thus conclusively proving the truth of the statement that "hunger is the very best sauce."

Having at length satisfied their appetites, it was considered quite time to go and wait for Mistress Turtle to make her appearance. So away they went, and, the distance not being great, they soon arrived at the spot, where, sure enough, they saw a fine large turtle. They had been none too cautious in their manner of approach, as they hardly anticipated finding her there so soon, if at all; and, directly they appeared over the ledge of rock, away she went as fast as she could for the sea. But Roger, who was a very fast runner, soon got in front of her and headed her off; and a few seconds later the men came up, when their united efforts were sufficient to turn her over on her back, after which she was safe. Bevan then drew his knife and cut off the head, which was thrown away; and then, making fast a rope which they had brought with them to one of the fins, they dragged the carcass off, and at length got it to the hut. They then started to cut it up, one of the fins being at once dropped into the pot and stood on the fire to make soup, that the sick man might have something more nourishing than water to drink. Then they put away as much as would keep fresh until they had used it, and the remainder they hung out in the sun to dry, after cutting the flesh into strips, thus ensuring for themselves a plentiful supply of meat for some time to come. They all now felt somewhat more comfortable in their minds, for they were certain that with the fish they hoped to catch, and an occasional turtle or two, with a further possibility of eggs now and then, and, above all, a plentiful supply of water, they would be able to hold out until the fleet came back to take them off their temporary prison.

Having removed every particle of flesh from the shell, Irwin signified his intention of taking the latter down to the water's edge to clean it thoroughly, as it would then afford a very handy and useful receptacle for water, and it would be further very useful as a bath; for it was highly dangerous to attempt bathing in the sea, the likelihood being that the adventurous swimmer would be snapped up by some voracious shark before he had been a minute in the water. He therefore went off, dragging the shell after him, while Bevan returned to the turtle's nest for the remainder of the eggs, and Roger busied himself with the simmering turtle soup, also taking a few strips of the meat and impaling them on pieces of wood in readiness for the next meal. Having performed this part of his duty he strolled away down to the beach to watch Jake clean the turtle's shell. As he came in sight of the beach, what was his surprise to see Jake Irwin in the water up to his arm-pits, reaching out as though endeavouring to get hold of some object just beyond him. The man did not see Roger, and continued his strange antics; but presently he got hold of what he was after, which had the appearance of a small keg that seemed to be about as much as he could conveniently carry. He then turned round and began to make his way ashore again, carrying his prize with him. He glanced up, saw Roger, and shouted: "I have something here, Master Trevose, which will be very valuable to us if it is what I believe it to be." He soon waded out and flung down a small barrel on the sand at his feet.

"Why," said Roger, "what is that? It is a barrel of some sort, as, of course, I can see; but what do you suppose its contents to be?"

"Well," responded the sailor, "as I was getting water to clean the shell, I saw some object washed up and then taken out again by the undertow; so I determined to get hold of it if possible; and next time it rolled in I made a grab at it, but missed it; then I ran out after it, and, after making several attempts, managed to get a hold of it, and brought it ashore; and here it is. And I think it valuable because it looks to me like one of the ship's spirit-casks. It may be brandy, and if the brandy has not been spoiled by the salt water getting at it, it will be a great blessing to that sick man Evans, and may even save his life. And it may save ours too, if we get taken ill; for there is no knowing when the fleet will be here again."

"Very true," responded Roger. "I do not believe that the skipper will give up looking for us while his ships hold together; but, as you say, it may be a long time before we are rescued, so it is as well to secure everything we can lay our hands on. Meanwhile, let us take the barrel up to the huts and open it, and see if the contents are what we hope them to be, and whether they have been reached by the sea-water, and spoiled, or not."

Then, each taking an end of the barrel—which was one of those small casks called breakers, holding about twelve to fourteen gallons, and therefore very weighty,—they carried it up to the hut, where they found Bevan just returned with the remainder of the turtle's eggs. Irwin at once set to work to remove the bung of the cask, while Roger went into the hut and fetched out the only small vessel belonging to the little community, a wooden mug capable of holding somewhere about a pint and a half.

A few moments more and Irwin said: "Ready, Master Trevose?"

"Yes," replied the lad.

"Then, here you are, sir."

Roger slipped the mug in front of the hole, and caught the liquid in it as it came gurgling out. He let the mug fill, and then the bung was returned to its place and driven home with the hammer. So far as colour and smell were concerned there could be little doubt that the liquor was brandy, as Irwin had surmised.

Roger was not greatly addicted to the use of spirits, being, indeed, exceedingly temperate; he therefore considered himself but a poor judge of its quality. Nevertheless he sipped at the contents of the mug, and, having tasted, said that, so far as he could tell, the stuff was good spirit enough, and at any rate he was certain that it had not been got at by the salt water. Bevan and Irwin then each took a taste—a pretty long taste it was too, for they returned the mug to Roger empty,—both pronouncing it to be the finest brandy of France that had ever passed their lips. They, being seamen, would have very much liked some more; but Roger pointed out that the spirit must be regarded as medicine only, and must be carefully conserved for use as such if ever any of themselves should be taken ill. The men fortunately had sense enough to see that Roger was right in what he said, and agreed to the liquor being kept for use in case of necessity.

It was now time to prepare the next meal, and this was done; a perfect feast of eggs, turtle steaks, bread, and turtle soup constituting the "spread". Evans was again aroused, and given a few spoonfuls of the soup, with a liberal allowance of brandy in it. He seemed too dazed to enquire where all this nourishing and wholesome food had come from, but managed to swallow his portion, and it revived him so much that he sat up without assistance. His faculties seemed to return to a certain extent, and presently he asked for more. This was given him, supplemented this time by a small quantity of brandy and hot water. The spirit seemed to do him more good than anything else. The light came back gradually to the fast-dimming eyes, and a spot of colour made its appearance in his ashen face. He swallowed with great difficulty; but, taking his time, he managed to eat a very fair quantity of food for a man sick nigh unto death, and the food, together with the stimulant, revived him so much that for a time Roger thought that with care, constant attention, and good food they might even now save the man's life after all. But the effect was only transient, and it was not long before he had to lie down again; his eyes lost their fire, and he gradually dropped back into a stupor similar to that from which he had been aroused to take his meal.

Roger was greatly moved by the poor wretch's condition, and was very quiet and reserved for the remainder of the day; the two sailors, however, had seen more of the world and its vicissitudes than the lad, and it did not affect them at all. When night fell, all retired to their improvised couches, it being considered unnecessary to keep a watch; for they replenished the fire so thoroughly before turning in that it would burn until morning. And if the ships should by any chance happen to sight the island during the night, they must inevitably see the fire, built as it was on the highest point of the bank, and, seeing it, would know that the castaways were alive on the island. They would then naturally heave-to until daylight.

Day dawned, and all hands turned out, the invalid, of course, excepted. Breakfast was cooked, and they sat down to the meal with very hearty appetites, despite the fact that upon looking round them the horizon was found to be bare of ships. Evans was again roused from his now constant stupor, and managed to take a little soup and brandy; but he immediately afterwards sank back again exhausted, and relapsed at once into his usual state. The two seamen went away to fish from the reef running into the sea close to where the turtle was taken, and Roger remained in camp to look after Evans.

The men had not long been absent on the fishing excursion, and Roger was busy in the hut, when the sick man moved, turned on his side, and, opening his eyes, fixed them on Roger's face. A sepulchral voice issued from the man's lips, and Roger understood him to ask that he should come close to his side. He, of course, immediately acquiesced, and lay down on the ground beside the man, so that his lips might be level with Roger's ear, and thus enable the poor fellow to speak without further weakening himself by raising his voice. The man asked for some brandy, and Roger at once gave it to him. This revived him a little, and he was now able to speak, though in a very low, weak, and husky voice, in which the near approach of death could now be heard. It was clear, indeed, that the invalid was sinking fast, and that he earnestly wished to communicate something to Roger before he died. First he asked the lad to see if the two sailors were anywhere near. The boy told him that they had gone fishing; but this did not satisfy him, he would have Roger look and make sure. To satisfy him, therefore, Roger went outside and took a look round, and, the men being nowhere in sight, he went in and reported the fact to Evans. Evans then signed to the lad to come closer and sit down, so that he could speak directly into his ear. Pulling himself together with an effort, he said:

"You have been very kind to me, young man, and I am going to recompense you by giving you the papers that I stole from Jose Leirya's cabin, also the cipher, which, when translated, will put the owner of it into the possession of that scoundrel's enormous treasure—always provided, of course, that Leirya has not already returned ere this and secured it himself. But I do not think he has; for, as I told you at the end of my yarn, when I left him, or rather when he left me here, he was going for a cruise in the Mexican Gulf. As I mentioned, the treasure is hidden somewhere on the shore of that inlet at the east end of Cuba, the latitude and longitude of which I gave you. But you will have to ascertain the precise locality of the treasure for yourself by translating the cipher; for I do not know it, nor does any other living man, except Jose Leirya himself. You will perhaps say that some one of those who helped him to bury it must know, and doubtless they did—once; but of those who left the vessel to bury the stuff with Jose not one ever returned to the vessel, or was heard of afterward. The crew of the ship so stood in awe of our captain that they dared not remonstrate or make any enquiry; but we were all convinced in our minds that he did away with those men by poison, and buried them in the brushwood near the beach. There were seven men to bury the treasure with him, and, big and strong as he was, and is, he could not have killed them all openly, or in fair fight. Jose may, or may not, know by this time that I have the key to the hiding-place of his treasure; but if he does he will not dare to remove it and attempt to bury it elsewhere; for all in the ship are aware of what took place when he first buried it, and none would go with him again to assist him, and he could not undertake the job alone. Besides, he has always expressed the utmost confidence that no one could ever translate the cipher without the key, and that he carries in his own brain; so he will almost surely leave his wealth where it is. I do not want your seamen to know, for those men could not keep silence; the news would soon be known to all, and then, of course, it would no longer be a secret. The papers I have not examined; I merely looked at them to make certain that the cipher was there, and, finding that it was, I troubled no further. But you had better examine them, as there may be something of value among them. I told you in my yarn that we had a driver on the galley named Alvarez, who left her before Jose Leirya came aboard, or if I did not, I intended to. Well, I must tell you that there were originally two copies of the cipher, and Alvarez, whilst an officer in a Spanish ship of war, employed an agent of his to join the crew of the pirate vessel and steal the cipher, if possible, as Alvarez had heard all the circumstances relative to the treasure from one of his spies, of whom he employs a great number. This spy obeyed his orders, but was only able to secure one copy, leaving the other, which I now possess. We discovered the theft while lying in the very harbour where the treasure is hidden; but the spy got to hear that all was known, and sprang over the side, intending, of course, to swim ashore. But as he went he was followed by a shower of bullets, and we saw him no more; so I feel very certain that he lies at the bottom of the bay, and that Alvarez did not get the cipher he wanted."

Thought Roger to himself: "I'm pretty certain he did, and, what is more, I know now that he had it in his cabin aboard the Gloria del Mundo, and this man little thinks that I have the very paper he is talking about in my pocket at this very moment; for it must be the same." He said nothing, however; and the dying man resumed:

"You have therefore no rival to fear except Jose himself; and if you should destroy his ship and himself—as I hope your captain will do when you have told him my story—you will be certain of vast wealth, provided that you can translate the cipher, which I believe you will certainly be able to do, for all that Jose says as to its impossibility without the key. Now I am exhausted with talking so much. Please give me a little more brandy." Roger did so, finding the man too weak to lift the mug to his lips, and almost too far gone to swallow. Having recovered somewhat, he continued in a weak voice, taking a packet from his pocket: "And now, here is the packet of papers, and the cipher is with them. Keep them safely by you, and part with them under no circumstances or conditions whatever. If you do this your fortune is certain."

He ceased speaking, and his head fell heavily back on his hard couch.

Roger sprang for more brandy, and lifted the poor fellow's head, but he appeared lifeless. Roger wetted his lips with the spirit, and presently they parted sufficiently to enable the lad to pour a little into his mouth. This was gradually swallowed, and Roger poured in a little more, which was also taken; and in a few seconds a heavy sigh escaped the lips of the sufferer, and his eyes opened. But there was a glaze over them that told its own tale. The white lips opened, and Roger, bending down, heard the last words that Evans ever spoke.

"God bless you, sir," he said, "and keep you safe! Keep your promise to me, sir. Good-bye! I die now, and am glad!" The eyes went duller still, the lips ceased to move, the body seemed to stiffen, and grew suddenly cold. Roger knew that the end had come, that the poor fellow's troubles were at last over, and that he was at rest.

Roger remained for some moments sitting, and lost in thought; then, rising, he placed the blanket over the dead man's face and went outside the hut. He determined to go and find his two sailors, and inform them of what had happened, so that they might come and assist him in burying the body at once; for in that climate it was necessary to bury a body as soon as possible after death, for sanitary reasons.

The lad had not gone very far from the hut when he remembered that he was still holding the packet of papers in his hand; so he slipped them into the pocket where he always kept the other cipher. But as he did so he paused for a moment and then drew the papers forth again, determined there and then to compare the two ciphers, for he felt almost positive in his own mind that the two ciphers would be found to be identical. He therefore sat down at the foot of a palm-tree in the shade, and, undoing the packet, compared the two papers, finding, as he anticipated, that the ciphers were written in exactly the same terms. "Therefore," thought Roger, "the spy of Alvarez managed after all to evade the musket-balls fired at him, and succeeded in conveying the cipher to Alvarez. No wonder that the Spaniard was so anxious to find his papers that day in the cabin of the Gloria del Mundo!"

Having satisfied himself on this point, he returned the papers to his pocket, buttoned up his jacket again, and continued on his way to find the sailors. They presently made their appearance, thus saving him the trouble of searching for them, and he saw that they were laden with as much fish as they could carry. They explained that they had caught far more than was necessary for present use, but that they intended to try the experiment of drying it in the sun, even as they had done with the turtle's flesh, thus—in the event of success—providing a store of food against any contingency that might arise.

Roger, of course, returned with the men, and on the way back recounted to them the fact of poor Evans's death, and of his desire to bury the body at once.

The three were soon back at the hut, and, choosing a spot at some distance from it, dug a grave in the sand with sharpened pieces of wood, as they had no other implements. The hole having presently been made sufficiently deep, they returned to the palm-grove, and laying a blanket on the floor, placed the inanimate body thereon. Then, Bevan taking one end of the blanket and Irwin the other, they carried the corpse away to its lonely grave, and reverently laid it therein. This done, Roger, kneeling by the grave-side, said a prayer, whilst the seamen stood by with bared heads, after which the sand was shovelled back, and a small mound raised over the grave.

The death of Evans affected the three survivors more or less during the remainder of the day; they were all very silent and thoughtful, and turned in early to sleep. About midnight Roger awoke with a vague sense of some impending evil. He turned and turned again upon his hard couch, but found it impossible to sleep. After a time he began to feel that there was a something missing to which he had been accustomed. He racked his brain over and over again, vainly trying to remember what it was, but for some time without success. Then it came suddenly upon him that the usual faint reflection of the glow which the big fire at the beach had been wont to throw round the hut was absent. Quickly getting into a few clothes, he stepped out of the hut, and saw that the moon in her first quarter was rising high in the heavens, giving just sufficient light for him to distinguish objects faintly. He therefore did not take the lantern with him, but at once walked away down to the beach, where he found the fire out and cold. They had forgotten to replenish it before turning in for the night. He took out his tinder-box, in order to get a light, when he happened to look up, and to seaward. And there, before his astonished gaze, he saw a vessel riding at anchor about two miles from the shore. In the first paroxysm of his joy, Roger was about to call aloud, imagining the craft to be one of the vessels of Cavendish's squadron; but on looking again, and studying the craft more closely, he saw that she was altogether different from any of the vessels in the fleet. He was wondering who or what she could be, when Evans's description of a certain ship flashed across his mind. Yes, there she certainly was, exactly as Evans had described—the black, long, and low-lying hull, the flush deck, the schooner rig, and the enormously tall, tapering, and raking spars! Yes, in that moment Roger knew her for what she was.