Chapter 1. Choosing A King

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_ Chapter I. Choosing a King

The storm had spent itself, the sea was calm again, and on its smooth surface tossed empty casks and shattered masts,--the monuments of shipwrecked vessels. The stormy petrels had vanished with the tempest, and the flying fish were now making their clumsy leaps from wave to wave,--a sign of fair weather. A brigantine which had outlived the gale was moving slowly over the almost unrippled surface of the water; all hands were engaged in repairing the damage occasioned by the storm; temporary masts were rigged, sails trimmed, the crew worked fairly hanging in the air; for the ship had heeled far over,--a proof that her ballast had shifted during the tempest.

With the exception of the blows of the carpenter's hammer, and the creaking of the pumps, nothing was heard save the voice of the captain, who stood leaning against the mainmast trying to ascertain on a chart the place to which he had been driven by the storm. The movements of the needle were scrutinized more and more carefully, while from time to time, the voice of an officer taking soundings, echoed on the air. At last the captain's finger stopped on a group of islands and he said quietly: "We are off the Ladrones." At the same moment a sailor on the mast-head shouted: "Land!" Without the slightest change of expression, the captain repeated: "The Ladrones."

Then, folding the chart, he took out a small silver whistle and, blowing a signal, ordered the mate to summon the crew to investigate the occurrences of the preceding night.

The Isles of Thieves were but a few miles distant, they had no cannon, their sails were tattered, yet the captain spoke as calmly in passing sentence upon his men as though he were sitting in the utmost security upon a jury bench.

"By whose directions were the sick thrown overboard?" he asked, turning his stern face toward the crew.

"The doctor ordered it," replied an old seaman.

"You, Scudamore?" inquired the captain, wheeling round to look a tall thin man in the face.

The latter's countenance was one of those which, at the first glance, appear smooth and gentle, whose features when smiling are even captivating, until some expression of mockery or greed of vengeance suddenly transforms the winning glance into an image of horror.

"You gave the order yourself, Captain Rolls," replied the surgeon, with a smiling face, and in a tone of marked gentleness, as if the subject under discussion were some very noble deed, which he declined to acknowledge merely from exaggerated modesty. "When the ship sprung a leak, you commanded that all the superfluous ballast should be thrown overboard. The men first cast out the heavy ballast; then you ordered them to add whatever else could be spared. Then the cannon went, though it was a great pity, for we stand in need of them, especially when off the Ladrones, but even this did not lighten the ship sufficiently. You again issued orders that everything superfluous must be cast into the sea. There was nothing left which could be dispensed with except the bars of silver and the sick. The crew began to discuss which should be thrown overboard. I answered: 'We shall not be asked for the _men_ when we reach London, but we shall be for the silver;' and, by my advice, the silver was saved and the ship weathered the storm."

"Dr. Scudamore," said the captain, with cool deliberation, "for this inhuman deed you will be cashiered, kept in irons until we reach London, and there delivered up to justice."

"Sail in sight!" shouted the man at the helm, and several of the crew whispered in terror; "Pirates!"

Scudamore fixed his green-gray eyes on the captain and, smiling contemptuously, said in tones which had suddenly grown hoarse.

"I think it might be advisable to defer my punishment a few hours; you or some one else might need my services during the interval."

"That is no affair of yours," returned the captain. "To die without a doctor or to be thrown into the sea by his orders is much the same thing."

"Ha! ha! ha! You see, it might have been better for you in the end, had you relieved the ship of the sick in the first place, instead of throwing your guns overboard. But that's _your_ affair."

Captain Rolls silently nodded to the men to take the doctor below. Then he gave orders that the bars of silver should be concealed in the hold, and that every man should go to his post to be prepared for any attack. He himself, taking his weapons, went to his usual station and, without changing the vessel's course in the least, ordered all sail to be set.

Meanwhile the pirate craft was dashing toward the brigantine. The black flag was already visible, and a cannon ball, whistling close by the brigantine's rigging, was the first message from the sea-robber.

Captain Rolls had no cannon with which to answer. The silence was interpreted by the pirates as fear, and one of their number shouted in a tone of thunder through his speaking trumpet:

"Ship ahoy! A word with the captain."

Instantly a battle-flag fluttered from every mast-head on the brigantine.

A terrible uproar arose on the pirate ship; a tall man, with a gray vest, girdled by a scarlet sash, appeared on deck, issuing orders in loud, hoarse tones, upon which half the sails were furled, and with a swift turn the light craft came round before the wind close by the brigantine, without firing a shot, evidently considering her a sure prey, which must be spared from harm.

On the pirate's prow was carved a strange human figure, the symbol of the ship's name, The Sea Devil, and, which, the pirates humorously asserted, was the living image of their Captain Davis, whose face had been so disfigured by the bursting of a shell that it resembled a death's head.

The pirates dashed with Satanic recklessness toward the brigantine, whose defenders still awaited them in motionless silence. But just at the moment the grappling irons were thrown, Rolls made a sign, and the thunder of the report of the sailors' arms followed; when the smoke dispersed, the two vessels were already fast locked together, the fire had killed several of the pirates; the others, pushing their comrades' bodies aside, were trying to climb to the brigantine's deck. In an instant the two crews were fighting man to man with sabres and knives. One furiously attacked, the other coolly defended; neither feared wounds or weapons.

The sailors fought bravely. Captain Rolls remained in his place, with his eyes fixed on the pirate leader, who had already fired at him three times without making his foe even turn his head.

"I'll see whether you are the devil or I!" Davis at last shouted savagely. "Follow me, you scoundrels," and seizing his sabre between his teeth, while swinging a huge hammer above his head with his right hand, he sprang on the deck of the brigantine, felling two of her crew at the same instant. The pirates, with deafening yells, rushed into the breach thus made, and the terrified sailors began to yield, more alarmed by the hideous face of the pirate leader than by the weight of his blows.

Rolls quietly drew a pistol from his belt. "You won't hit me!" yelled Davis, gnashing his teeth and trying to startle the captain by rolling his eye-balls hideously. The latter fired, and whoever was looking at Davis at the moment saw a bloody star on his forehead where the bullet entered. The pirate suddenly grasped the handle of his hammer with both hands and sank lifeless.

Bewildered by the loss of their leader, the corsairs were on the point of yielding their vantage ground, when one of their number shouted triumphantly: "Hurrah, Barthelemy!" and at that moment a fierce yell arose from the center of the brigantine. While the fight had been raging on one side, six pirates in a boat had rowed around her and crept noiselessly to her deck, which they reached just as their captain fell. These men, too, turned to fly, but one of their number, a young, slender fellow, with a bronzed face, thick curling locks, and sparkling eyes, sprang behind Rolls, and, pinioning his arms, wrested his pistol from his hold and forced him to his knees.

"Let no one stir or you are all dead men!" shouted the young pirate in bold, ringing tones, and the sailors, disheartened by the capture of their commander, laid down their arms before the savage forms thronging on deck.

The victory was Barthelemy's; and his comrades' first act was to lift him on their shoulders, declare him their captain and, with terrible oaths, swear eternal fealty by death, hell, and the devil.

A Herculean fellow raised him aloft like a child, and, pointing to the figures lying weltering in their blood, shouted in a voice of thunder:

"Who deserves to be your leader better than Robert Barthelemy?"

"No one! No one!" was the unanimous answer.

"Will you have him for your leader, captain, king?"

"Hurrah!" responded the crew.

"Stop!" cried Barthelemy from the Hercules' shoulder. "I heard some one shout 'No.'"

"Who was it?" roared the athlete; "does any one want to jest with death?"

"Don't rage, Skyrme, don't rage, my brave giant. Speech is free. Come forward, Lord Simpson, you oppose my election. Step forward, my valiant nobleman, and tell us your objection to me!"

The pirates, amid rude laughter, pushed before Barthelemy a tall, fair man, who, with his hands thrust into his pockets, eyed the new captain scornfully from head to foot.

"Speak fair, noble lord!" said Skyrme, raising his sinewy hand, threateningly above Simpson's head, "or you'll bite your own tongue."

"I should do that without your telling me," replied Simpson, nonchalantly, glancing at his comrades. "You know that my father was Lord Simpson?"

"Of course we do!" shouted the others.

"My father was the sworn foe of Jeffreys, who, after Monmouth's fall, brought the brave English Protestant nobles to the scaffold. My father suffered with them. Since that time I have hated the Papists, and do not want one even for a pirate chief. Not even you, Barthelemy, for you are a Papist."

Instead of breaking the speaker's head, Skyrme raised him on his arm and, amid the loud laughter of the pirates, drew him toward Barthelemy, with whom he drained the cup of friendship, after Barthelemy had assured him, on his honor as a pirate, that he had not entered a church since his christening, and had never been in a priest's presence during his entire life. The new captain was then formally given the leader's cap with its scarlet plume, and the whole band then proceeded to the work of distributing the booty.

Barthelemy sat on a cask turned upside down, holding on his knees a black book in which were written in red letters the names of the pirates, and read them one by one in a loud tone. Often nobody answered and, at the end of a long pause, some one growled: "Dead," and the name was instantly erased from the list.

Just then a pirate brought Captain Rolls, who had been bound hand and foot, to the mainmast, where he laid him flat on the deck. Barthelemy raised his hat with the utmost courtesy.

"Pardon me, captain, that my men have placed you in so uncomfortable a position. You are a brave soldier and fought well. Unbind this worthy man."

"His hands too?" asked a pirate, casting a doubtful glance at his leader from under his shaggy brows.

"Yes, Asphlant, especially if the captain will promise to do nothing against us."

"I'll promise nothing," replied Rolls.

"Well, no matter; I told you to unbind his hands at any rate, it will be our business to see that he doesn't break anybody's head. And now, captain, be kind enough to declare the contents of your vessel, which you have so bravely defended. No doubt you have a valuable cargo."

"You have captured the ship, and can search every corner of her, I shall guide you nowhere."

"Right again. Men, go below."

The pirates instantly leaped down the hatchways and, after spending an hour in rummaging through every part of the ship, they returned to Barthelemy with the sorrowful tidings that there was nothing in the whole vessel except a cask of biscuit and one of water.

Rolls could not help smiling at the fury of the disappointed men.

"You could see that I had no guns, and therefore might have inferred that, if I had been in such straits that I was forced to throw them overboard, there would be no other ballast in the ship."

"Devil take it!" roared Asphlant, throwing his cap on the deck, "have so many brave fellows eaten lead and drunk salt water for the sake of an empty box, full of rats? you are a cheat, captain. What had you to defend in this ship?"

"My honor," replied Rolls proudly.

"Which, when we have taken it from you, will be of no use to us," said the giant Skyrme, laughing. "What do you say to that, Moody?"

The man addressed was a sullen, taciturn fellow, who was sitting on the bulwark, holding a short pipe between his teeth. The silver whistle hanging from his button-hole indicated that he was the pirate's boatswain.

"What's the use of so much talk?" he rejoined. "Bore a hole in the bottom of the ark and let the whole crew go under water with her."

"For heaven's sake, gentlemen!" shrieked a voice among the captured sailors, and a man, with his hands tied behind his back, threw himself at Barthelemy's feet and tried to kiss his boots, while his eyes rested despairingly on the face of the pirate chief.

"For heaven's sake, you brave, valiant, worthy men! You heroes, you demi-gods! By heaven, hell, and all that is sacred to you, I beseech you not to murder me. Kill all my comrades, the scoundrels deserve it for resisting you; but I have given you no offence, I never held a weapon in my hand; I was imprisoned during the whole fight and have just been brought out by these brave, excellent men."

Some of the pirates stared, others laughed.

"Gentleman, renowned heroes, worshipped sovereigns of our age, hear me, I entreat you, by all you hold sacred. I am Dr. Scudamore, a persecuted man; persecuted as you are; I have nothing to do with these people; I am the mortal enemy of Captain Rolls. I implore you to distinguish between me and these people, not to condemn me with them. Oh, I beg you to be merciful and permit me, kissing the dust off your feet, to consider myself the humblest of your servants."

Skyrme averted his face with an expression of loathing, while Moody kicked at the writhing figure, whom every one was eyeing with the deepest scorn.

"Captain Rolls," said Barthelemy, "it appears that you have condemned this fellow?"

"Only accused, not condemned. The judgment lies with the English courts."

"Oh, we won't go so far," said Skyrme with a look of amusement; "make the charge; we'll represent the court of justice. Barthelemy will be judge, we the sheriffs and constables. Bring forward the complaint, the court is open."

Rolls coldly averted his eyes without answering a syllable.

Scudamore, who was scanning every face with the crafty glance of a man who fears for his life, hastily interposed.

"You see, gentlemen, you see the contemptuous face with which he receives your offer, you see how proudly, how scornfully he looks down upon you, as if it would be a disgrace to him to recognize such worthy men as judges. Oh, _I_ will submit to your sentence, I have no desire to stand before wiser, more just or more distinguished judges. I will tell with my own lips everything of which I am accused."

"I forbid you to do so!" cried Rolls vehemently.

"There, you see for yourselves, gentlemen. He wants to command here still, here, where you are the rightful possessors. He will not even permit me to repeat the charge against me! Very natural! He knows that he, and not I, will be condemned. So listen, gentlemen, listen, for what I have to tell is an important matter; my crime is that we were bringing huge bars of silver--"

"Ho! ho! that begins well," shouted Asphlant, craning his neck to hear better.

"On the way a storm rose, the ship sprung a leak, and the captain ordered all useless ballast to be thrown overboard. There was nothing left except the sick and the silver, and the question was which should be cast into the sea?"

"Well, and you, as the doctor, of course kept the sick," said Skyrme.

"No indeed, I kept the silver, and now Captain Rolls wants to punish me for it."

Barthelemy turned from the man in horror, while Rolls glared at him with blazing eyes.

"Oho, captain," cried Asphlant, "so there is silver on your ship! Where did you hide it, eh?"

"That I will not tell you."

"You won't? Oh, the thumb screw will find out. Here, ropes, ropes!"

"What do you mean?" cried Barthelemy, boldly surveying his companions. "Are we members of the Inquisition, that we seek to learn truth by torture? No, my friends; let no one have the right to say that the pirates use the tools of the auto-da-fe! Should not we, who call ourselves the heroes of the free sea, honor freedom? If Captain Rolls will not reveal the hiding-place in his vessel we will take her into port, pull every plank apart, and find the silver without committing a deed which would dishonor us."

The pirates cheered their captain's speech, and began to fasten the brigantine to their ship.

Scudamore, who had refrained from disclosing the hiding-place merely that the pirates might wreak their vengeance on Captain Rolls, now, perceiving that the latter had escaped, said:

"Don't trouble yourselves, gentlemen. Why should you drag this miserable craft after you? Release me and promise to spare my life, and I'll take you to the spot where the silver is hidden."

"Loose the doctor's hands from the irons," said Barthelemy signing to his men. "I'll promise that we will not harm a hair of your head. Show us the hiding-place."

Scudamore, finding his hands at liberty, tried to shake hands with each one of the pirates in turn, but they angrily pushed him back.

"Hurry up!" cried Asphlant, dealing him a blow, while another pirate, grasping him with both hands, dragged him along, Scudamore protesting that he should feel under obligations to the whole company as long as he lived.

The pirates soon returned, exultingly bearing the chests of silver on their shoulders. Barthelemy ordered them to be placed on board their own vessel, while Scudamore showed the utmost zeal in helping the men, calling each, meanwhile, his dear, kind friend, a compliment which they repaid with all sorts of abusive epithets and the command not to touch their property.

The last to come on deck was Asphlant, who said with great satisfaction: "We shall leave nothing here, captain! The ship is entirely empty. Shall we bore a hole in her bottom? Or will it be better to hang these fellows in a row on the mainyard, and let the vessel drift where she likes?"

The loud laughter of the pirates showed their cordial approval of this proposal. The sailors gave no sign of emotion, while Scudamore tried to lock arms with one after another of the pirates, constantly asserting that he had nothing to do with the other party.

"Silence!" ordered Barthelemy sternly. "You will neither scuttle the ship nor hang the crew. That might do for miserable Spanish privateers, pitiful Tunisian cut-throats, but not for us, Englishmen and Frenchmen. Are we to make ourselves ashamed of the name of pirate, admit that it has nothing in common with the word honor? Were not the first inhabitants of Rome also corsairs? Our mission is to place the name of fillibuster in a new light. Captain Rolls, you and your whole ship's company are free to go wherever you desire."

A fierce uproar arose among the robbers. Many approved the captain's speech, some strove to oppose it.

Barthelemy stamped his foot violently. "Is there any one who desires to contradict me?"

"Yes!" shrieked Moody, stepping in front of him and thrusting the pipe he held between his teeth so close to the captain's face that it almost touched his eyes. "I say you are a fool, captain. You are acting against all the customs of pirates and, if you don't take back your order, I'll scuttle the ship myself."

"Do you think so?" said Barthelemy. "Skyrme! Seize this fellow and bind him to the mainmast."

The pirates shrank back, startled. Moody was the oldest of the band, whom no captain had ever ventured to punish. Barthelemy again motioned to Skyrme, and the latter, rushing upon the chief mate, bound him, in spite of his struggles, to the mainmast, so that he clasped it with both arms, his back turned to the crew; but, while pouring forth a continuous torrent of oaths, he still kept his pipe in his mouth.

"Is there any one else who wishes to oppose me?" asked the young chief.

A suppressed murmur ran through the ranks of the pirates, but no one raised his voice distinctly.

Barthelemy now turned to Captain Rolls and, taking from his pocket a piece of paper and a pencil he said:

"Captain Rolls! I hope you will reach London with your ship in safety. It is true that you will return her to her owners empty, but that is no fault of yours, in proof of which I will give you the following certificate for your justification at home.

We, free knights of fortune, bear witness in the
presence of all whom it concerns, that Rolls, captain
of the brigantine Neptune, was attacked by us on the
Pacific Ocean, and, having just lost his guns and part
of his rigging in a gale, defended himself against us
in the bravest manner for an hour and a half, and did
not yield until, after losing nine of our best men and
our captain, we completely overwhelmed him and thereby
alone obtained the silver entrusted to his care.

CAPTAIN ROBERT BARTHELEMY.

"Add," said Rolls, "that you succeeded in securing the silver only through Scudamore's treachery."

"True," replied Barthelemy, adding the sentence.

"Gentlemen!" interposed Scudamore trembling, "what are you going to do with me?"

"Nothing," said Barthelemy. "We promised that we would not harm a hair of your head."

"Yes," returned the other mournfully, "but if you release the captain, and me with him, what is to become of me?"

"I don't know," returned the corsair-chief, shrugging his shoulders.

Skyrme laughed aloud. "That's a splendid joke!"

"For heaven's sake! What shall I say to you?" stammered Scudamore, throwing himself at Barthelemy's feet. "Oh, gentlemen, don't leave me in this man's power, he will have no mercy on me. He is a horrible villain."

"Ha! ha! ha!" cried Skyrme. "Don't spoil this joke, captain. When you set the commander of the brigantine free, let him take this fellow with him; what a fine lot of talk there will be when they call him to account at home for the service he has rendered us."

"Gentlemen! Brave men!" shrieked Scudamore clasping Barthelemy's knees. "Surely you are only jesting with me. It amuses you to drive me to desperation in this way, but you will not really ruin me. You cannot forget that I have rendered you an important service, and shall perform still more. I am a physician; you need one, take me with you. I will be just such a man, such a devil as all the rest, I'll be no disgrace to your band. You will never repent having made my acquaintance. I beseech, I implore you to say a good word to the captain for me. Oh, you good, brave man, you leader with the face of a hero, give me your hand, that I may kiss it."

"Rise," said Barthelemy curtly. "We _do_ need a surgeon, I'll take you."

"What! a surgeon among us!" growled Moody, who was still bound to the mast, "a surgeon who, whenever one of our band is wounded in the hand or foot, will cut it off? A living human saw? A poisoner, who won't let a man die in peace? I've no use for him. Throw him out of the ship, or I'll kill him."

"Not another word, Moody!" cried Barthelemy. "It is my wish, and so it shall be. You manage the ropes and sails, but you need not trouble yourself about anything else."

"I beg you, sir," said Scudamore, "not to vex our valiant captain, you seem to be such a worthy man, I know I shall have the warmest regard for you."

"Come nearer, so that I can see you," said Moody. And when Scudamore approached near enough for him to reach him with his foot, he gave him such a kick that he nearly fell over backward.

"Men!" shouted Barthelemy, "bring me the cat o' nine tails. Give this man thirty blows on the back. Whoever disobeys me must suffer for it."

The nine-lashed scourge was instantly brought. "To work at once!" Barthelemy commanded. "No one is exempt from punishment."

Moody's eyes fairly started from their sockets with rage, and when the man bearing the cat o' nine tails approached him, he began to throw himself frantically to the right and left, but thereby only caused the blows to fall on him haphazard, till at last one knocked the pipe from his mouth.

Barthelemy coolly awaited the end of the punishment, and then called Scudamore to write his name in the list of pirates. Scudamore seized the pen with eager joy, and wrote his signature with such horrible glee that even the robbers were startled, and then, turning to Captain Rolls, exclaimed scornfully:

"When you reach London, inform the government of my new occupation."

Skyrme laid his huge hand on his shoulder and muttered between his teeth: "You scoundrel, you'll make a first-class devil."

"At least as good as any of you."

From that moment, Scudamore felt perfectly at home in his new sphere, looking at the list with his name enrolled as if it were some diabolical patent of nobility, and eyeing Captain Rolls with the air of a newly appointed official surveying his former comrades.

"Now, Captain Rolls," said Barthelemy, "you can take possession of your ship. But that we may not leave our mate here in exchange for your doctor, loose Moody from the mast."

Two pirates obeyed the command, avoiding the feet of the chief mate, who was trying to deal them a severe kick. When he found his hands free, his first act was to give the nearest liberator a heavy blow, and the second to pick up his short pipe and put it between his lips.

"Moody!" said the captain, folding his arms, "I just punished you as your commander's subordinate; now that it is over we again stand man to man; if you feel that I have wronged you, take your weapons. I am ready to give you any satisfaction and, if you desire, will fight with you."

Moody did not utter a syllable in reply, but hastily threw off his coat, rolled up his sleeves, loosed his collar and, with sparkling eyes, eagerly looked about for a weapon.

"Give him arms," said Barthelemy; "which will you have, pistol or sabre?"

"Give me a sword," gasped Moody hoarsely, "we shall be nearer each other."

"Make room for this brave man, lads; keep out of the reach of his arm, for he'll strike at any one. Excuse our fighting in your ship, Captain Rolls, but satisfaction must be given in the presence of those who witnessed the offence. Well, Moody, are you ready? Give a signal, when you are ready."

Moody, however, required few preparations, and as soon as he seized the sword, with the flat of whose blade he dealt a severe blow on the back of the person who handed it, he began to strike furiously around him in every direction, so that had twelve men stood near he would have mowed them all down--only he failed to hit the one directly in front of him.

Barthelemy seemed to be merely toying with him. He scarcely moved his arm to parry the strokes which his adversary's fury did not suffer him to calculate.

"Take care--you are running directly upon my sword--Moody, don't put your own eyes out. Look, I am not standing where you are aiming. Don't strike at me so fiercely, I shall think you want to kill me."

It was a true robber-fray; for the rage of one adversary, the jests of the other, the rude laughter of the bystanders, the jeering, irritating remarks do not occur in duels between gentlemen.

The loud laughter of the pirates enraged the chief mate still more, and he grew fairly frantic when, glancing aside, he saw among them Dr. Scudamore, who had spread out his surgical instruments on his knees, and was gazing at him with a look of diabolical pleasure in his green eyes. Turning from the captain he rushed directly at the surgeon.

"Oho, my good fellow, don't run overboard," said Barthelemy, barring his way, upon which Moody, his face distorted by rage, again attacked him. Barthelemy avoided the blow and pierced his right arm. The chief mate instantly picked up his sword with his left hand; the foes again confronted each other, breast to breast.

Then Barthelemy, with a clever trick of fence, struck his antagonist's sword from his grasp and, setting his foot upon it, seized him by the throat and flung him among his companions.

Scudamore officiously ran forward to aid the wounded man.

"Don't come here!" roared Moody hoarsely, "or I'll tear you to pieces and put you on my wounds, as the ourang outang does leaves."

The chief mate would not allow his injuries to be bandaged, but though bleeding profusely, struggled with his companions till they bound one arm to a beam; and continued to strike about him with the injured one till that too, was bound, after which he kicked violently and when his feet were also tied, bit like a mad dog. They were obliged even to gag him before the doctor could bandage his wounds, and stanch the blood.

"How bad the old gentleman's teeth are," said Scudamore, with a malicious twinkle in his eyes. "We shall probably have to pull out some of them."

Moody could make no reply to this hideous threat except a roar like a wild beast's, and could not even bite the hand which the doctor passed over him.

Meanwhile Barthelemy had had the brigantine's crew released and told them that they would find all their weapons in the mate's cabin, whose key he would give them when he left the Neptune.

With these words he approached Rolls, bowed courteously, and held out his hand. After a short pause the latter clasped it, saying:

"Very well, I will take it, in the hope that we may meet again."

"I hope this will happen soon. A presentiment tells me that some day I shall kill you in a victorious battle, Captain Rolls."

"And one tells me that I shall get you hung, Robert Barthelemy."

"I thank you for your kind intention. By the way, you have only one keg of biscuits and a cask of water--that will not supply you until you reach London. May I offer you some of my store of provisions?"

"I will accept it, and trust that you will be fully repaid."

"Oh, it's not worth talking about. I would willingly lend you a few cannons, that you may not be captured on the way."

"I advise you not to do so, for if I had even two guns, I would try to recover my stolen silver."

"You are a good fellow. We shall meet again somewhere. Till then, farewell."

The two captains shook hands with each other. Meanwhile the pirates had rolled several casks of biscuit and water from their vessel to the brigantine. Barthelemy gave the sailors the key and, with a bound, reached the deck of his own ship, the pirates shoved off from the Neptune and, with three cheers, set sail. Half an hour later, two vessels were seen moving across the sea in opposite directions, widening the space between them every moment. _

Read next: Chapter 2. In Hispaniola


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