The Bravest of the Brave or, with Peterborough in Spain. Henty George Alfred
one.’ ‘I did not ask,’ she said almost in a whisper, and I could see her face was ‘most as white as a sheet, ‘I never ask. And so you have joined them?’ ‘Yes,’ says I, ‘I couldn’t help it, ma’am. I was the last, you see; if there had been any one else to have encouraged me I should have said no, but being alone—’ ‘Don’t excuse yourself, poor boy,’ she said; ‘don’t think I blame you. Who am I that I should blame any one? It is little I can do for you, but if you should want anything I will do my best to befriend you.’ I heard the captain’s voice calling. Suddenly she put her finger to her lips, as a hint to me to hold my tongue, and off she went.
“I don’t know whether the captain’s wife spoke to him about me or not, but at any rate he didn’t tell me off to any of the huts, but kept me at the house. I used to go down in the day to work with the other men unloading the ship and stowing away the stores, but they only worked for a few hours morning and evening, lying in hammocks slung under the trees during the heat of the day. I made myself useful about the house, helped the old woman to chop wood, drew water for her, attended to the plants in the little garden round the house, trained the creepers up the veranda, and lent a hand at all sorts of odd jobs, just as a sailor will do.
“When, ten days after we arrived, the ships got ready for another cruise, I was afraid they would take me with them, and I lay awake at nights sweating as I thought over the fearful deeds I should have to take part in; but the captain gave me no orders, and to my delight the men embarked and the ships sailed away without me. I found there were some forty men left behind, whose duty it was to keep a sharp lookout and man the batteries they had got at the entrance to the cove in case any of our cruisers came in sight.
“The man who was in command was a Spaniard, a sulky, cruel looking scoundrel. However, he didn’t have much to do with me; I took my turn at the lookout with the rest of them, and besides that there was nothing to do. The men on shore had all been in one or other of the ships when I was taken; for I found there were about a hundred and sixty of them, and a quarter stayed at home by turns, changing after each cruise, whether it was a long or short one.
“The captain’s wife often spoke to me now; she would come out and sit in the veranda while I was at work. She asked me what part I came from, and where I had sailed, and what friends I had at home. But she never said a word to me about the capture of the ship. She always looked sad now, while she had been cheerful and bright while the captain was on shore. In time she got quite friendly with me, and one day she said, ‘Peter, you will have to go to sea next time, what will you do?’
“‘I must do as the others do, God forgive me,’ says I; ‘but don’t think, ma’am, as ever I shall do it willing. It may be years before I gets a chance, but if ever I does I shall make a run for it, whatever the risk may be. I speaks free to you, ma’am, for I feel sure as you won’t say a word to no man, for it would cost me my life if they thought that I wasn’t with them willing.’
“‘I will not tell any one, Peter, you may be sure,’ she said; ‘but I do not think you will ever have a chance of getting away—no one ever does who once comes here.’
“Well, in time, lad, she lets out bit by bit a little about herself. She had been on her way out to join her father, who was an officer of the East Indy Company, when the ship was taken by the pirates. The men was all killed, but she and some other women was taken on board the pirate and at last brought there. The French captain took a fancy to her from the first, and after she had been there a year brought a Spanish priest they captured on board a ship and he married them. The pirates seemed to think it was a joke, and lots of them followed the captain’s example and got married to the women there. What they did with the priest afterward, whether they cut his throat or landed him in some place thousands of miles away, or entered him on board ship, is more nor I know.
“There’s no doubt the captain’s wife was fond of her husband; pirate as he was, he had not behaved so bad to her—but except when he was with her she was always sad.
“She had an awful horror of the life he led, and with this was a terror lest he should fall into the hands of a cruiser, for she knew that if he hadn’t the good luck to be killed in the fight, he would be tried and hung at the nearest port. It was a kind of mixed feeling, you see; she would have given everything to be free from the life she was leading, and yet even had she had the chance she would not have left her husband. I believe he had promised her to give it up, but she must have knowed that he never would do it; besides, if he had slipped away from the ship at any place where they touched he could not have got her away, and her life would have paid for his desertion.
“But I don’t think he would have gone if he could, for, quiet and nice as he was when at home, he was a demon at sea. Ruffians and scoundrels as were his crew, the boldest of them were afraid of him. It was not a word and a blow, but a word and a pistol shot with him; and if it hadn’t been that he was a first rate seaman, that he fought his ships splendidly, and that there was no one who could have kept any show of order or discipline had he not been there, I don’t believe they would have put up with him for a day.
“Well, lad, I sailed with them for three voyages. I won’t tell you what I saw and heard, but it was years before I could sleep ‘well at night, but would start up in a cold sweat with those scenes before my eyes and those screams ringing in my ears. I can say that I never took the life of a man or woman. Of course I had to help to load the cannon, and when the time for boarding came would wave my cutlass and fire my pistols with the best of them; but I took good care never to be in the front line, and the others were too busy with their bloody doings to notice what share I took in them.
“We had been out about a fortnight on my third voyage, and the schooner and brig were lying in a little bay when we saw what we took to be a large merchant ship coming along. She was all painted black, her rigging was badly set up, her sails were dirty and some of them patched, she was steering east, and seemed as if she was homeward bound after a long voyage. Off we went in pursuit, thinking we had got a prize. She clapped on more sail, but we came up to her hand over hand. She opened fire with two eight pounders over her stern. We didn’t waste a shot in reply, but ranged up alongside, one on each beam. Then suddenly her sides seemed to open, fifteen ports on each side went up, and her deck swarmed with men.
“A yell of dismay went up from the schooner which I was on. In a moment a flash of fire ran along the frigate’s broadside; there was a crash of timber, and the schooner shook as if she had struck on a rock. There was a cry, ‘We are sinking!’ Some made a wild rush for the boats, others in their despair jumped overboard, some cursed and swore like madmen and shook their fists at the frigate. It seemed no time when another broadside came.
“Down came the foremast, crushing half a dozen men as she fell. Her deck was nearly level with the water now. I climbed over the wreck of the foremast, and run out along the bowsprit. I looked round just as I leaped. The pirate captain was standing at the wheel. He had a pistol to his head, and I saw the flash, and he fell. Then I dived off and swam under water as hard as I could to get away from the sinking ship. When I came up I looked round. I just saw the flutter of a black flag above the water and she was gone. I was a good swimmer, and got rid of my shoes and jacket, and made up my mind for a long swim, for the frigate was too busy with the brig for any one to pay attention to us, but it did not take long to finish it.
“In five minutes it was over. The brig lay dismasted, and scarce a dozen men out of the forty she carried were alive to throw down their arms on deck and cry that they surrendered. Then the frigate’s boats were lowered; two rowed in our direction, while two put off to the brig. There were only nine of us picked up, for from the first broadside till we sank a heavy musketry fire had been poured down upon the deck, and as we were not more than fifty yards away from the frigate, the men had been just mowed down. We were all ironed as soon as we were brought on board. After that we were brought up one by one and questioned.
“‘You are young to be engaged in such work as this,’ the captain said when my turn came.
“‘I was forced into it against my will, sir,’ I said.
“‘Yes,’ the captain said, ‘I suppose so; that’s the story each of the prisoners tells. How long have you been with them?’
“‘Less