I had been asleep about two hours, when I was awakened by a light touch, and, starting up, found that it was one of the anchor-watch, who was saying—

"Better go below, sir, I think, because it looks as though it was goin' to rain. And Bill and me, sir, we thinks as you ought to know that we fancies we've heard the dip o' paddles occasionally round about the ship within the last ten minutes."

"The dip of paddles, eh?" exclaimed I, in a whisper. "Where away, Roberts?"

"Well, first here and then there, sir," answered the man, in an equally low and cautious tone of voice; "both ahead and astarn of us; sometimes on one side, and then on t'other. But we ain't by no means certain about it; that there whirl-pool away off on our port-quarter a little ways down-stream is makin' such a row that perhaps we're mistaken, and have took the splash of the water in it for the sound of paddles. And it's so dark that there ain't a thing to be seen."

It was as the man had said. It was evident that a heavy thunderstorm was about to break over us, for the heavens had become black with clouds, and the darkness was so profound that it was impossible to see from one side of the deck to the other. I scrambled to my naked feet and went first to the taffrail, then along the port side of the deck forward, returning aft along the starboard side of the deck, listening intently, and I certainly fancied that once or twice I detected a faint sound like that of a paddle stroke, but I could not be certain; and as to seeing anything, that was utterly out of the question.

"Find Warren, and tell him to bring a port-fire on deck, and light it," said I. "It can do no harm to take a look round, just to satisfy ourselves; and it is never safe to trust these savages too much. Look alive, Roberts; moments may be precious if it be as you suspect."

"Ay, ay, sir," answered the man, as he trundled away forward to find the gunner. And meanwhile, as it was evident that a heavy downpour was imminent, I roused up Gowland, and we carried our mattresses below, I repeating to him, as we went, what Roberts had told me.

By the time that we got back on deck again the gunner was aft, waiting for us, with the port-fire all ready in his hand, and I instructed him to go aloft as far as the fore-cross-trees and light it there. A few seconds elapsed, and then, with startling distinctness, came down to us the cry—

"All ready, sir, with the port-fire!"

"Then light it at once," answered I, "and we will see what there is to be seen."

The livid, blue-white glare of the port-fire almost instantly burst forth, shedding its unearthly radiance far across the glassy, swirling surface of the rushing stream, and by its light we saw a startling sight indeed, the schooner being surrounded by a flotilla of at least twenty large canoes, each manned by from thirty to forty dusky warriors, fully armed with spears, bows, and war-clubs. They were about a cable's length from us, and had evidently taken up their positions with the utmost care, so that they might close in upon and reach us simultaneously, as they were now doing. As the brilliant light of the port-fire blazed forth, a shout of astonishment, not very far removed from dismay, burst from the occupants of the canoes, and a momentary tendency to sheer off precipitately became apparent; but this was instantly checked by a loud and authoritative call from the largest canoe—the voice sounding very much like that of Matadi himself—and with an answering yell the savages at once turned the bows of their canoes toward the schooner and began to paddle for dear life.

"Call all hands," shouted I, "and pipe to quarters. Pass the word that the men are not to wait to dress. Another minute and the savages will be upon us!"

The men needed no second order; they had all been sleeping on deck, and had awakened at the gunner's call from aloft, and the glare of the port-fire striking through their closed eyelids, and before the words were well out of my lips they were standing to their guns and awaiting my next order.

"Depress the muzzles of your guns as much as you can, and give the treacherous rascals their contents as you bring them to bear," cried I. "We shall only have time for one round, and if that does not stop them we shall be obliged to fight them hand to hand!"

The whole of the schooner's guns were fired, one after the other, but the port-fire unfortunately burnt out just about that time, so that we were unable to ascertain what effect had been produced, and before another could be found and lighted we heard and felt the light shocks of collision as the canoes dashed alongside, and in a moment found ourselves engaged in attempting to check the onset of a perfect wall of savages that hemmed us in on every side, and surged, and struggled, and writhed, and panted as they endeavoured to force a way through the stubborn boarding nettings. It was just the tricing up of those nettings that saved us; but for them the schooner's decks would have been overrun, and we should have been massacred in a moment. As it was, this unexpected obstacle, which of course none of them had observed in the afternoon—the nettings not being then triced up—daunted them, for they could neither displace it nor force a way through it, and while they clung there, like a lot of bees, vainly striving to find or make a passage through it, our men were blazing away with musket and pistol at the black wall of writhing, yelling humanity, and bowling them over by dozens at a time. When at length another port-fire was found and lighted, it disclosed to us an appalling picture of dusky, panting bodies, blazing eyeballs, waving skins and plumes, gleaming spear-points, and upraised war-clubs hemming us in on both sides, from stem to stern, every separate individual glaring at us with demoniac hate and fury as he strove ineffectually to get at us.

The savages fell in scores at a time beneath our close and withering fire, and at length, finding the netting impassable, and themselves being shot down to no purpose, they suddenly abandoned the attack and flung themselves back into their canoes, in which they made off with all speed for the shore, subjected meanwhile to a galling fire of grape and canister from our guns, which I very regretfully allowed to be maintained, believing that our only chance of safety lay in inflicting upon them a severe enough lesson to utterly discourage them from any renewal of the attack. We continued firing until the last canoe had reached the shore, by which time eleven of them had been utterly destroyed and several others badly damaged, resulting in a loss to Matadi of, according to my estimate, not far short of three hundred men. We had just ceased firing, and the men were busy securing the guns again, when the threatened storm burst forth, and our fight terminated with one of the most terrific tempests of thunder, lightning, and rain that I had ever been exposed to. It; lasted until about three o'clock the next morning, and then passed off, leaving the heavens calm, clear, and serene once more, and the stars even more brilliant than they had been before the gathering of the storm. Of course, after the attempted surprise of the schooner by the savages, there was no more sleep for me that night, and before dawn I had resolved to send a boat ashore, demanding the surrender of Matadi and his chiefs, as hostages for the good behaviour of their people until the delivery of the English prisoners, the alternative, in case of refusal, being the destruction of the town.

Accordingly, as the rising sun was gilding the hill-tops, I ordered the boat to be lowered, and sent her away in Gowland's charge, with Lobo to act as interpreter, with a message to that effect. The guard of warriors still held the landing-place, and to the chief in command of them the message was given; its receipt, as Gowland subsequently informed me, producing a very considerable amount of consternation. The reply was that Matadi had been very severely wounded in the accidental engagement of the previous night, and was believed to be dying; but that the chief to whom the message had been given would communicate with his brother chiefs, and that we should receive their reply on the following morning. And to this Gowland had replied that if the white prisoners were not surrendered, safe and sound, or the whole of the chiefs, Matadi included, on board the schooner when the sun stood over a certain hill-top—which would be in about an hour from that moment—the schooner's guns would open fire upon the town and continue its bombardment until every house in it was razed to the ground. And therewith the gig returned to the ship, and was again hoisted to the davits.

This peremptory message, coupled no doubt with the experiences of the preceding night, had its desired effect; for while the sun was still a quarter of an hour distant from that part of the heavens that Gowland had indicated, we saw a procession issue from the fetish-house in the centre of the town, which our telescopes enabled us to make out as consisting of a group of white men, closely guarded by a body of some two hundred armed warriors, detailed, it would appear, for the purpose of guarding the whites from the fury of the witch-doctors, or priests, who were thus most unwillingly deprived of their prey, and who accompanied the party right down to the shore, doing their best to instigate the people to attack the escort and recapture the released prisoners. There was a terrific hubbub over the affair, repeated rushes being made at the party; but the guards appeared to use their clubs with great freedom, and eventually the cortege reached the river, and the whites were safely embarked in three large canoes which, manned by natives, and apparently in charge of some authoritative person, at once shoved off for the schooner.

Upon the arrival of this little flotilla alongside it was found that the white prisoners brought off for surrender numbered twenty-eight, all of whom were in a most wretched plight from sickness and the barbarous neglect with which they had been treated during their long and wearisome captivity. They consisted of the Sapphire's late second and third lieutenants, one midshipman, nine marines, and sixteen seamen; one midshipman, three marines, and two seamen having died of fever during the time that they had been in Matadi's hands. So frightfully were they reduced by suffering and despair, that when the poor little surviving mid—a mere lad of sixteen—was helped up the side to the schooner's low deck his nerve entirely gave way, and he fell upon the planks in a paroxysm of hysterical tears, and wild, incoherent ejaculations of gratitude to God for having delivered him from a living death; while as for the others, they were too deeply moved and shaken to utter more than a husky word or two for the moment, but the convulsive grip of their emaciated hands, their quivering lips, and the look of almost incredulous delight with which they gazed about them and into our faces, spoke far more eloquently than words. Needless to say, we gave them a most hearty and fraternal welcome, at once and before every thing else providing as far as we could for their physical comfort, while Armstrong, our warm-hearted Scotch surgeon, immediately took them in hand with a good-will that promised wonders in the way of speedy restoration to health and strength.

During all this while the three canoes had remained alongside; and by and by, when I had once more time to think of other matters than those more immediately concerning my guests, Lobo came to me and informed me that the chiefs who had brought off the released white men were waiting for the payment of the promised ransom. I thought this tolerably cool, after the treacherous manner in which they had attacked us during the preceding night; but I was too greatly rejoiced at the success of my mission to be very severe or retributive in my behaviour just then. I therefore paid the full amount agreed upon, but directed Lobo to say that although I paid it I did not consider that Matadi was entitled to claim a single article in view of his unprovoked attack upon the schooner, and the miserable condition in which he had delivered up his captives. But I paid it in order that he might practically learn that an Englishman never breaks a promise that he has once made. And having duly impressed this upon them, I gave them further to understand that, should it ever happen that other white men fell into their hands, they would be expected to treat them with the utmost kindness and consideration, upon pain of condign punishment should they fail to do so, and that upon delivering any such whites, safe and sound, to the first warship that might happen to enter the river, they would be handsomely rewarded.

This matter settled, our business with Matadi was at an end, and although there happened to be not a breath of wind stirring, I determined to make a start down the river at once, and get to sea as soon as possible, in order that the rescued men might not be deprived, for one moment longer than was absolutely necessary, of the restorative effects of the pure salt breeze. We accordingly manned the capstan forthwith, hove short, and then proceeded down-stream by the process of navigation known as "dredging"; that is to say, we kept the schooner in the proper channel by means of the anchor and the rudder combined, allowing the anchor to just touch and drag along the ground when it became necessary to sheer the ship away from a danger, and at other times heaving it off the ground a few feet and allowing the craft to drift with the current. And so strong was the rush of the river just then, that by its means alone we accomplished a descent of no less than thirty miles that day before sunset, anchoring for the night in a very snug cove on the northern bank of the river, under the shadow of some high hills. Then, during the night, a light southerly air sprang up, freshening towards morning into a spanking breeze that soon became half a gale of wind, and under its welcome impulse—although we found it rather shy with us in some of the narrowest and most intricate parts of the navigation—we contrived to complete the descent of the remaining portion of the river on our second day out from Matadi's town, arriving off the mouth of Banana Creek about an hour before sunset. Here, in fulfilment of my promise, I released Lobo, who, to do him justice, had served us well when he found that it was to his interest to do so. And I may now dismiss him finally from my story by saying that when one of the ships of our squadron put into the river about three weeks later, it was found that Senor Lobo had profited by my advice to the extent that he had disposed of his factory and other property, just as it stood, to his former manager—the purchase-money being paid three-fourths down, the remainder to be paid by instalments at three and six months' date. And a very excellent bargain he contrived to make, too, so I understood, the unfortunate buyer suffering a heavy loss when the captain of the cruiser made it his first business to destroy the barracoon, which formed a portion of the property, although the aforesaid buyer of course made a point of vowing most emphatically that he had no intention whatever of using the structure for slave-dealing purposes, to which also, as a matter of course, he declared that he had a most righteous aversion.

Having landed Lobo, we proceeded to sea that same night, carrying the southerly breeze with us all through the night, and then falling in with a regular twister from the eastward that carried us right across the Line to about latitude 0 degrees 47 minutes North. From thence we had light and variable breezes to Sierra Leone, despite which we made an excellent passage, arriving in the anchorage in just three days short of a month from the date of our leaving it upon our rescuing expedition; and I am happy to say that when we landed the rescued party they had all so far rallied as to render their perfect recovery merely a matter of time, provided, of course, that the deadly fever of the coast did not carry them off in the meanwhile.

On our arrival in Sierra Leone I was greatly surprised to find the Barracouta still in harbour; and I of course lost no time in going on board to report myself and, incidentally, to find out the reason of her prolonged stay in port. But on presenting myself on board I discovered that I had been mistaken in supposing her to have lain there idle during the whole period of my cruise—on the contrary, she had only arrived three days before the Felicidad; and after I had told my story and received the compliments of the captain and the rest of the officers upon what they were pleased to term the boldness and judgment with which I had executed my mission, I had to listen in return to a story as gruesome as can well be imagined, although it was told in very few words. It appeared, then, that a day or two after my departure, the Barracouta again put to sea with the fixed but unexpressed determination to prosecute a further search for the Francesca, the wind and weather having meanwhile been such as to encourage Captain Stopford in the hope that by adopting certain measures he might yet contrive to fall in with her. And he had done so, though by no means in the manner that he had expected, the cruise being without result in the direction in which he had hoped to meet with success. Some days later, however, after the search had been reluctantly abandoned, and while the brig was edging in towards the coast again, hoping to pick up a prize to recompense them in a measure for their disappointment, they had unexpectedly fallen in with the Francesca, again, and were not long in coming to the conclusion that something was seriously wrong on board her, both her topmasts being carried away close to the caps and hanging suspended by the rigging, with no apparent effort being made to clear away the wreck, although the weather was then quite fine. Sail was of course at once made to close with the dismantled craft, and then another surprise met them, for although the intention of the brig must have been from the first moment unmistakable, no attempt was made to avoid the encounter, which, however, was accounted for a little later by the fact that the Francesca appeared to be in an unmanageable condition. Then, as the brig neared her still more closely, it was seen that the sweeps were rigged out but not manned, although the deck was crowded with people, unmistakably blacks. And then it was that for the first time the dreadful surmise dawned upon Captain Stopford's mind—a surmise that soon proved to be true—that the negroes, doubtless goaded to frenzy by their continued ill-treatment, had risen upon and massacred the entire crew and taken possession of the brigantine, which of course they had not the remotest idea how to handle.

The Barracouta soon arrived upon the Francesca's weather quarter, and the evidences of the fearful deed then became unmistakable, the scuppers still bearing the stains of the ensanguined stream that had poured from them, while among the whole of that crowd of yelling, fiercely gesticulating blacks, not a single white face was to be seen. Boats were at once lowered and a strong crew sent away to take possession of the disabled vessel, but the emancipated slaves, maddened at the thought of again falling into the hands of the hated whites, and, of course, unaware of the fact that the brig's crew were anxious only to render them a service, offered so desperate a resistance to the boarders that Young, who led the latter, recognising the impossibility of taking the brigantine without serious loss of life, withdrew to consult with Captain Stopford as to the best course to pursue. Meanwhile, the wind fell away to a calm, of which circumstance the slaves took advantage by manning the sweeps and gradually withdrawing from the vicinity of the Barracouta, This was about sunset; and three hours later a bright blaze upon the horizon proclaimed that the notorious Francesca had either caught or been set on fire in some inexplicable way. The brig's boats were at once manned and dispatched to the rescue of the unhappy blacks, or as many of them as it might be possible to save; but the brigantine was by this time some nine miles away, the flames burnt with ever-increasing fury, and while the boats were still some three miles distant the doomed ship blew up, and the occupants of the boats saw the bodies of the miserable blacks hurled high in the air in the midst of a dazzling sheet of flame and a cloud of smoke. When the boats arrived upon the scene of the disaster, all that remained of the once gallant but guilty Francesca consisted of a few charred timbers and fragments of half-burnt planking, in the midst of which floated some forty or fifty dead bodies of negroes; the rest had vanished—whither?

Such, reader, is the story, and such was the end of the Pirate Slaver, the terrible doom of which, when it became known, caused such a thrill of horror in the breasts of those who had emulated her crew in their career of crime, that from that time forward there was a noticeable falling-off in the number of vessels frequenting the West African rivers in search of slaves; and finally, a year or two later, the appearance of fast steamers in the slave-squadron rendered the chances of success so remote that but a few of the most enterprising had heart to continue the pursuit of so risky and unprofitable a business. And when these were one by one captured and their vessels condemned, the infamous trade dwindled more and more, until it finally died out altogether, never, let us hope, to be revived again.

THE END.