Chapter 20. The Ouzel Galley Overtaken By A Hurricane...

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_ CHAPTER TWENTY. THE OUZEL GALLEY OVERTAKEN BY A HURRICANE--DRIVEN TOWARDS THE COAST OF CUBA--THE MAINMAST STRUCK BY LIGHTNING--FIRE--OWEN EXTINGUISHES THE FLAMES--CLOSE IN WITH THE COAST--A STRANGER SEEN--A MUTINY ON BOARD-- CHASED--THE OUZEL GALLEY BOARDED BY PIRATES--O'HARRALL RECOGNISES OWEN, AND SPARES HIS AND HIS FOLLOWERS' LIVES--THE OUZEL GALLEY CARRIED TO THE PIRATE'S STRONGHOLD--OWEN AND HIS COMPANIONS IMPRISONED IN THE STORE-- OLD MAMMY KEEPS STRICT WATCH--O'HARRALL'S CHANGEABLE TEMPER--PLANS FOR ESCAPING--MONTHS PASS BY--FRESH GUARDS SET TO WATCH THEM--HEAR OF THE LOSS OF THE EAGLE--THE PIRATES STILL IN THE OUZEL GALLEY--OWEN AND HIS FOLLOWERS ESCAPE IN A CANOE--SEE THE OUZEL GALLEY--AVOID HER--GET ON BOARD THE RESEARCH.

When Owen Massey sailed from Montego Bay, he had hoped to escape all enemies and make a rapid passage to Waterford; but those hopes were doomed to disappointment. Scarcely had the _Ouzel Galley_ passed Bellevue than signs of a coming gale from the westward were perceptible. So partial, however, are the disturbances of the atmosphere in that region, that Owen kept the ship under all sail in the expectation of being able to run out of it before it reached him. Still he was too good a seaman not to take the necessary precautions. All hands remained on deck, while he continually turned his eye to windward, to be ready to shorten sail immediately it became absolutely necessary. As the day drew on, the blue mountains of Jamaica grew less and less distinct. Should the gale overtake him, it was of the greatest importance to gain a good offing, for in mid-channel he would not have much to fear. The _Ouzel Galley_ was a stout ship, and, if well handled, might brave the fiercest hurricane. The log was hove. She was making between eight and nine knots, a speed she could not often exceed. The wind was well aft and all her sails filled. His hopes of escaping the gale continued. After some time, however, he saw that the dark bank of clouds which had long been visible above the horizon was rising more rapidly than at first. Then masses detached themselves and came rushing across the sky, breaking into numerous portions, like the riflemen of an advancing force feeling their way through an enemy's country. Still he carried on to the last moment.

"In studding-sails!" he suddenly shouted. "Let fly royal and topgallant sheets!"

The first-named sails were speedily hauled down. The crew then hurried aloft to hand the others, which were fluttering in the wind.

"Three reefs in the topsails!" was the next order given.

A strong crew alone could have performed the operation as rapidly as it was got through. The courses were next brailed up. Still the ship flew on as fast as previously before the rising gale.

"Bedad! and it's my belafe that we're going to have old Harry Cane on board," observed Dan to Pompey.

"You not far wrong dere," answered the black. "Cappen Massey know what him about. I'se sooner be 'board _Ouzel Galley_ when a hurricane blowing dan on board many a king's ship, when de cappen tink he berry wise an' carry on till de masts go ober de side."

"Troth! an' ye're right there, Pompey, my jewel! We'll be afther running out of the harricane, and sorra the worse will we be."

The confidence felt by the young master's two faithful followers was shared by most of the crew.

The _Ouzel Galley_ behaved admirably; she ran on before the fast-rising seas roaring up alongside. The wind whistled in her rigging, and bright flashes of lightning darted from the black clouds now gathering thickly overhead.

As the night drew on the wind increased, and it was now blowing a regular hurricane; still, as long as there was plenty of sea room, no danger was to be apprehended, unless indeed, the ship should be struck by lightning, against which no skill or seamanship could guard. No one on board could hide from himself that such might possibly occur, as the flashes succeeded each other with still greater and greater rapidity, the lightning frequently running along the yards, now playing round the mast-heads, now darting over the foaming seas in snake-like forms. In the intervals between the flashes, so dense was the darkness that the eye failed to see half across the deck, and had another vessel been overtaken, the _Ouzel Galley_ might have run her down before she could have been perceived. The canvas had been reduced to a single close-reefed fore-topsail, which so tugged and strained at the mast that every instant it seemed as if about to be torn out of the bolt-ropes. As long as the wind blew from the westward or south-west, the ship could run on with safety till she had got to the eastward of Cuba, and before that time there was every probability of the hurricane ceasing. Her only safe course was to keep directly before it, for if she were to bring the seas abeam, they would to a certainty sweep over her and carry everything before them.

Owen remained on deck, holding on to a stanchion, while two of his stoutest hands were at the wheel. For some hours he had stood at his post, feeling no apprehension of danger, when towards the end of the middle watch the wind shifted suddenly to the southward, blowing with even greater fury than before. The helm was put a-starboard, and the _Ouzel Galley_ was now running towards the dangerous coast of Cuba. There was no help for it; but Owen expected, as is often the case during a hurricane, that ere long the wind would again shift.

For a short time there was a comparative lull, and all on board hoped that the gale was breaking.

"We shall be able, I am thinking, sir, to make sail and haul off from the shore by morning," observed his first mate. "It is well not to get nearer the Cuba coast than we can help. There are not a few low keys and sandbanks to bring us up; or one of the enemy's cruisers may be spying us, and it would give us a job to get away from her."

"As to that, I am not much afraid," answered Owen. "I shall be thankful when the hurricane is over and we can stand on our course."

The hurricane, however, was not over. Again the wind struck the ship with tremendous force, the lightning, as before, playing round her, crackling and hissing as it touched the wildly tossing waves. Suddenly there came a frightful crash. The splinters flew on every side, and the tall mainmast, tottering for a moment, fell over the side, breaking away the bulwarks--either it or the lightning which had riven it killing three men who were standing near. In its fall it carried away the mizen-mast.

"Fire! fire! the ship is on fire!" shouted several voices. "Put it out, then, my lads, and clear away the wreck," cried Owen, seizing an axe which hung inside the companion-hatch, he himself setting the example, which was followed by his mates and several others.

While one party was engaged in cutting away the shrouds and running rigging, so as to let the blazing mass fall into the water, another was handing up buckets and throwing water over the stump of the mainmast. The wreck of the mast being got rid of, the flames on deck were soon extinguished; but a cry came from below that the heel of the mast was on fire.

"We shall soon put that out, lads," cried Owen, with all the calmness he could assume; and leading the way into the hold, bucket in hand, he forced a passage through a dense mass of smoke until he reached the seat of the fire.

There he took his post, in spite of the heat and the clouds of smoke surrounding him. As the buckets were handed to him, he hove the water over the burning wood. Bravely he fought the flames, and at length was able to shout to his crew that they were extinguished. Having assured himself of this fact, he hurried on deck. The foremast stood, carrying the closely reefed fore-topsail.

"It can't be helped," he observed to his first officer. "As soon as the weather moderates, we must set up fresh backstays to the mast and try and rig jury-masts, which will carry us back to Port Royal."

"I shall be thankful if we can keep clear of the land and escape the enemy's cruisers we were talking about, sir," answered the mate, who, though a steady man, had less spirit than the master.

When daylight broke, the outlines of the lofty mountains of Cuba were seen ahead, but still indistinct, and, to the ordinary eye, not to be distinguished from a bank of clouds. Still the ship drove before the hurricane; but, as the sun rose, the wind began greatly to decrease, although it still blew with too much force, and the sea ran too high, to allow the ship to be brought on a wind. She had, therefore, still to run before it, unwilling as those on board were to approach the dangerous coast. The sun rose as the land became more and more distinct, but still the sea was too high to allow of jury-masts being set up. In the mean time the spars were got ready to do so as soon as possible.

As the wind decreased the sea went down, but by the time the ship could be brought on a wind she was within sight of the coast, and, owing to the eccentric course she had steered, it was difficult to say exactly whereabouts she was, although Owen calculated that she was somewhat to the westward of Cumberland harbour.

"We can only hope, sir, that no Spanish man-of-war or privateersman lies anywhere inside of us, and that we shall be able to get a good offing again before we are sighted by an enemy," observed the mate.

"I hope so," answered Owen. "What we now have to do is to set up our jury-masts and make sail as soon as we can."

All hands were engaged in this important operation. While it was going on, Owen occasionally took an anxious glance through his telescope towards the land. As he did so, his eye caught sight of a sail, on which the bright rays of the sun fell, standing out from it, and he soon saw that she was a large ship. A friend was not to be expected from that quarter! He made no remark, however, as all hands were working as fast as they could.

His mate at last saw the stranger.

"What do you think of her?" asked Owen.

"No good, sir," was the answer.

"I fear not," said Owen. "All we can pray for is that a calm may come on, till we can make sail on the ship, and then we may get away from her during the night."

"She will be up to us long before that, sir," observed the mate, shaking his head.

"At all events, in the mean time we will do our best," remarked Owen; and, without taking further notice of the stranger, he continued working away with his officers and men.

At length her jury-masts were got up, with yards across, and the main-topgallantsail, and such other sails as they could carry were set on them.

By this time the stranger had approached too near to escape the notice of any one on deck. Of course her character was suspected.

"You see her," cried Owen. "Now, my lads, I hope you will stick by me; and if she proves to be an enemy, of which I have no doubt, we will try and beat her off."

Several of the crew answered with a hearty "Ay, ay, sir!" but others were silent; among them were the men who had lately come on board in Kingston harbour.

The wind was light, and the _Ouzel Galley_ made but little way through the water. The stranger was now seen to be a ship of her own size, if not larger. Owen ordered the colours to be hoisted, but none were shown in return by the stranger. Again and again he took a glance at her through his telescope, and at last he called his first mate.

"Have you ever seen that ship before?" he asked.

"I have been thinking that I have, sir, and, if I mistake not, she is the very craft which so nearly captured us on our passage out."

"I am afraid so," said Owen. "The more reason we should try to beat her off; and, please Heaven, we will do so."

"I will stand by you, sir; and so, I hope, will most of the men," answered the mate; "but I don't like the looks of some of the new hands, and least of all of that man Routh."

As he spoke, he caught sight of Routh ascending to the mast-head, from which he was seen to wave a flag, supposing, apparently, that he was not perceived from the deck.

"We must seize that fellow," cried Owen. "He did not make that signal without a cause."

"Ay, ay, sir," answered the mate. "I will soon learn his object;" and, calling Dan Connor and Pompey, he went forward to secure Routh as he descended on deck.

Just then Owen observed a smaller flag hoisted at the mast-head of the stranger; then Routh, instead of at once coming on deck, ran out to the end of the fore-yardarm, from whence he dropped something into the water, apparently the very flag he had just waved. He then deliberately returned to the foretop, and after stopping there for some seconds, and looking at the stranger, he slowly descended the fore-rigging. As he did so, he caught sight of the mate, with Dan and Pompey, waiting for him, when, suspecting their object, he sprang up again, and shouted to several men who were standing forward. They were those of whom the mate had just before spoken as likely to become traitors. With threatening gestures, they at once advanced towards the mate.

"If you interfere with Routh it will prove the worse for you," exclaimed John Green, who acted as their spokesman.

The mate's first impulse was to seize the fellow, but his courage failed him. "You will hear what the captain has to say to this," he answered, and began to retreat, Dan and Pompey unwillingly following him.

Routh, on this, took the opportunity of slipping down on deck and joining his companions.

Owen, who had seen what had been taking place, at once went into the cabin and got his own pistols and cutlass, directing the second mate to arm the rest of the men. Still, notwithstanding the mutiny on board, he kept to his determination of fighting the ship till the last. Fortunately, the mutineers had no arms, and before they were aware of it all the true men had got their weapons.

"Now, my lads," cried Owen, "if you refuse to do your duty, you must take the consequences. Go to your guns! The first man I see flinch from them I will shoot through the head."

This threat seemed to produce its effect, and even Routh obeyed.

The stranger was now rapidly overhauling the _Ouzel Galley_, which, hauled on a wind, was standing to the south-east. Owen had got his guns ready for action; the crew were at quarters. Crippled as the _Ouzel Galley_ was, he could only hope to succeed by speedily knocking away the enemy's masts, or otherwise seriously damaging her; for, unable to manoeuvre his ship except very slowly, he could not prevent his opponent from taking up any position which might be chosen, either ahead or astern, and raking him at leisure--or she might at once run him aboard and overwhelm him with superior numbers. Still he bravely determined to fight till the last.

He anxiously watched the stranger to judge what she would do. She had at first set all the canvas she could carry, but as she came towards the _Ouzel Galley_ she shortened sail, gradually also edging away to leeward, apparently for the purpose of preventing Owen from making his escape. The enemy had as yet not fired a shot. Directly, however, that Owen could get his guns to bear he fired them at her; not without some effect, but that did not make her alter her course.

"She intends to board us, sir," cried the mate, who had been watching the stranger.

"You are right, but we will give her a broadside or two first, and maybe make her alter her purpose," answered Owen. "Fire, my lads! and run in the guns and load again as fast as you can."

The men stationed at the aftermost guns obeyed the order, but the shot from those forward, manned by the new hands, flew wide of their mark; it might have been from their ignorance of gunnery, but, considering their late conduct, it was too probable that it was done on purpose. The rest of the crew took good aim, and then running in their guns, reloaded them.

"Here she comes!" cried the mate. "She will be aboard us presently."

As he spoke the stranger ranged up alongside, her decks covered with men. Four of the _Ouzel Galley's_ guns alone went off, and ere they could be again loaded the stranger was alongside, throwing grappling-irons on board to secure her prey.

"Cut them clear!" cried Owen. "Resist boarders!"

As he issued the order, the pirates, who stood ready in the main and fore-rigging of their ship, leaped down on the deck of the _Ouzel Galley_, when, with a feeling almost of despair, Owen saw Routh and several of his crew join them. Still, rallying his men round him, he resolved, if possible, to drive back the pirates in spite of their numbers. Firing his pistols, he gallantly attacked them, cutlass in hand, seconded by his mates and several of his men, Dan and Pompey fighting with undaunted courage.

"On, my lads! on!" he shouted; and so sturdily did he and his companions attack the pirates, that they drove the greater number back to their own ship. This, success encouraged his men, and once more they began to hope that they should get free.

At this moment, a voice was heard from among the pirates cheering them on, and a fresh party leaping down on the deck of the _Ouzel Galley_ bore all before them. In vain Owen and his faithful followers, Dan and Pompey and others, fought with the most determined bravery; they were soon overwhelmed by far superior numbers. Owen's foot slipping, he fell upon the deck. At that moment one of his assailants raised his cutlass, and was on the point of giving him a death blow, when the leader of the pirates interposed his own weapon.

"Let him live!" he exclaimed. "He is one I am bound to protect; and these fellows with him--we will spare their lives. You hear?" he shouted, turning to Dan and Pompey; "if you wish to have a longer spell of life, drop your cutlasses. The ship is ours; give in, or in another moment you will be among those who lie there on the deck."

"Faix, thin, yer honour, if yer are going to spare the captin's life, I have no objection at all at all to live a little longer," answered Dan-- still, however, keeping his cutlass ready to defend himself.

"And I'se too glad to 'cept your offer!" cried Pompey, who also wisely stood on his guard.

"Let no one touch them, or the boy there," said the pirate, pointing to Tim Maloney, who, though he had done his part, had now got behind Dan and Pompey.

A dizziness had come over Owen's eyes as he fell, but now looking up, he caught sight of the pirate gazing at him. Their eyes met.

"Owen Massey," said the pirate, taking his hand; "I know you and remember my promise." He pointed to the ring which Owen wore upon his finger.

"O'Harrall!" exclaimed Owen. "Is it possible that you are the leader of such men?"

"It is fortunate for you that I am their leader," answered O'Harrall, helping Owen to rise. "Were I not, you would have shared the fate of your crew. I will protect you and the three survivors, although it will be no easy matter to do so."

"I accept your offer, and trust that you will keep your word regarding my men," answered Owen.

More he could not say, for his feelings overpowered him, as looking round he saw his two mates stretched dead on the deck, and the rest of the men who had remained faithful to him weltering in their blood not far off. Though bruised from his fall, he was not otherwise hurt, nor were either Dan, Pompey, or Tim wounded.

"The safest place for you and these three men is your own cabin," said O'Harrall. "Go in there with them, and I will place a sentry at the door. I cannot trust my own people, and still less the fellows who turned traitors to you."

Owen, fully agreeing that O'Harrall was right, followed his advice. As he was going below, he saw Routh approaching O'Harrall. After gazing at each other for a moment, they shook hands. Owen, on seeing the two together, no longer wondered that he should have mistaken one for the other, so great was the likeness.

"They must be brothers, and the man who calls himself Routh is the younger, of whom my mother has spoken to me," he thought.

Thankful to have escaped with his life, more for his mother's and Norah's sake than his own, Owen Massey, sad and almost broken-hearted at the loss of the ship, threw himself into a chair in his cabin, Dan, Pompey, and Tim standing round him.

"Cheer up, Cappen Massey; tings when dey come to de wust begin to mend, dey say," observed Pompey, anxious to console his beloved master. "As de pirate sabe our lives, he set us free p'raps, and den we go back to Jamacee and you get oder ship."

"Bad luck to the pirates for taking us, though!" exclaimed Dan. "It's my belafe we should have bate them off, if it hadn't been for that thafe of the world, Routh, and the other villains. By the powers! if I ever get the chance, I'll make him repint his treachery; but as you have escaped, captin dear, the rest matthers but little to my mind in comparison."

Owen thanked his followers for their kind expressions towards him, but he severely felt the loss of his mates and the rest of the crew, besides that of his ship, while he could not look forward with much hope to the future. He was very doubtful, also, how O'Harrall might treat him. He knew too well the savage and lawless character of the man, who, though he had saved his life, might at any moment, in a fit of passion, turn upon him and his other prisoners; and although he might withhold his hand from killing him, would without compunction put the others to death. For the present, however, their lives were probably safe; and Owen resolved to follow the pirate's advice and remain in the cabin until summoned to leave it. He could judge by the sounds on deck that the pirate crew were engaged in repairing the damages the _Ouzel Galley_ had received. After this he heard the order given to make sail, and he found by a small compass in the cabin that the ship was standing to the eastward.

After some time O'Harrall himself entered the cabin. "I was compelled to take your ship, Massey," he said, "and now I have got her I am equally obliged to keep her; but I repeat to you that your life and the lives of the two Irishmen are safe, provided you remain below. The black runs no risk from my people, and he may go on deck and make himself useful. He will act as your steward, and bring you your meals while you remain on board. I intend to take command of the _Ouzel Galley_, so that I shall be able to look after you till you are put on shore."

Owen was not inclined, it may be supposed, for conversation; while O'Harrall had matters to attend to on deck. He therefore, having sent Pompey there, soon left the cabin. After some time the black returned with a substantial meal, which he had prepared by O'Harrall's orders.

Night came on, and the ship still continued her course. Owen's only hope was that she might be sighted by some man-of-war and recaptured. This hope, however, was but slight. The pirates were likely to be wary, and they would take care to keep away from any strange sail. The wind was light, and the _Ouzel Galley_ made but slow progress. Owen recollected that the pirate ship was in company. O'Harrall, when he came occasionally into the cabin, showed no inclination to give him any information.

Another and another day went by, and Owen began to lose all hope of being retaken; still, as long as the ship was at sea, there was a probability of this occurring.

"Suppose we are chased--won't the pirates be after cutting all our throats, sure?" suggested Tim, who was more out of spirits than either Owen or Dan.

Owen could not help thinking that such might be the case; yet if the _Ouzel Galley_ were to be recaptured, notwithstanding the injury O'Harrall had done him, he determined to plead for his life. Not that he could perceive a single good quality in the man, except his undaunted bravery, and he himself felt grateful to him for saving his his life, though it was done in return for his twice having saved O'Harrall's.

On the morning of the fourth day the wind freshened, and the ship made better progress. Towards evening, Owen and his fellow-prisoners could distinctly hear the roar of breakers. Occasionally the loud voice of O'Harrall, issuing his orders, reached their ears. The ship rose and fell several times as if passing over a bar, then Owen felt that she was gliding on through perfectly calm water. He heard the orders for shortening sail; still she continued her course for some distance, till the anchor was dropped and all movement ceased. He could have no doubt that she had entered a harbour, the rendezvous of the pirates, where they would consider themselves safe from attack, and that his chances of escape were now likely to be small indeed. The _Ouzel Galley_ had been some time at anchor when O'Harrall entered the cabin.

"I have made arrangements for you and the two Irishmen to live on shore," he said; "the black can attend on you, and you must make the best of the circumstances in which you are placed. As to your escaping, that is out of the question, so I will not go through the ceremony of taking your word that you will not make the attempt. As to the future, I can say nothing. If I can prudently at any time set you at liberty, I will do so, although when that may be is more than I can at present say. You are at liberty to take with you your clothing, and any books you may require for your amusement. I have obtained that favour for you. According to our laws, every article on board the ship is public property, and must be divided accordingly. I will accompany you on shore as soon as it is dark. In the mean time, you can employ yourself in putting your things together, and taking farewell of the old ship. I little supposed when I was before on board that I should one day find myself her commander."

O'Harrall spoke the last sentence in a somewhat ironical tone, and, without further remark, left the cabin. It was already dark, and Dan had lighted the lamp which hung from the deck above when O'Harrall returned.

"I will take you and your followers on shore now, Captain Massey," he said. "Ask no questions, and take no notice of anything you see. While I am with you, you are safe; obey my directions and you will continue so, but I cannot answer for the conduct of the people hereabouts if you venture anywhere by yourself. Your men will carry your chest and their own bags."

Pompey had entered with O'Harrall, to assist Dan and Tim; taking up Owen's chest, they followed him and the pirate on deck. Not a man was to be seen on board; the ship appeared to be deserted. A boat was alongside, with two people in her. The Irishmen and Pompey lowered down the chest.

"Come, Massey, bid farewell to the old craft," said O'Harrall, in the same tone in which he had before spoken; and he went down the side of the ship into the boat.

Owen and his three companions descended after him.

"Shove off," said the pirate in Spanish; and the crew, obeying, began to pull towards the low shore, which could dimly be distinguished through the obscurity. A few trees rose above it, and here and there at intervals twinkling lights could be perceived, as if proceeding from the huts of the inhabitants.

Owen, as he glanced round, saw at once that the ship lay in the centre of a lagoon of some size, the shores of which were in most parts low; but to the southward, the direction of which he knew by the stars shining brightly from out of the unclouded sky, the ground rose to a considerable height, with what appeared to be cliffs directly above the water. Near the _Ouzel Galley_ lay another large ship, and he guessed that she was the one which had captured her, but he wisely forebore to ask questions.

"You see the sort of place you are in," said O'Harrall. "It is not one from which you could easily escape, however much you might desire it; but let me advise you not to make the attempt. You would to a certainty be retaken, and I could not save you from the fate to which you would be doomed. I have already shown that I desire to serve you. I could not help capturing the _Ouzel Galley_, for the signal made by one of your crew showed my people that she was a prize worth taking; although I knew her at once, and guessed that you must be in command, I could not help myself."

Owen made no reply to these remarks. Bad as a man may be, he generally endeavours to offer some excuse to those he respects. But little further conversation passed till the boat reached the beach. O'Harrall then gave some orders to the men in her, who, as soon as he and his companions had landed, pulled away. The black and the two seamen then, shouldering the chests, followed O'Harrall and Owen, the former conducting them directly inland, passing some groves of cocoa-nut and other trees, and avoiding any of the huts which were scattered about here and there. After they had walked nearly a quarter of a mile, a largish building, which might have been a barn or store, met their gaze, a light gleaming from one end of it.

"Open the door, Mammy; here are your guests," said O'Harrall, and immediately an old black woman appeared, with a lamp in her hand, which she held up to enable her to scrutinise her visitors.

"All right, massa cappen," she said. "Glad to see the gen'lemen. I'se take good care ob dem, neber fear."

"Go in, Captain Massey," said the pirate. "Mammy will be your hostess while you remain with us."

Owen and the rest entered the hut. He saw that the room in which they found themselves occupied only a part of the ground-floor of the building, being divided off from the larger portion by a wooden partition or bulkhead. On looking round he saw a ladder, which led through a trap-door to the floor above.

"Your lodging is to be up there," said O'Harrall, pointing to it. "It may remind you of a place in which you once gave me shelter. I have not forgotten that. I wish that I could afford you better accommodation; however, it is sufficiently large and airy, and you will, I hope, find it as comfortable as you desire. Mammy will supply you with food, which your black fellow can cook, with her assistance. The only charge I have to give you is not to leave the house until you hear from me. A tackle hangs from the beam overhead. Let your men get your chest and their bags up at once; so that, should any one come to pay Mammy a visit, it will not be suspected that you are here. You see, I took precautions for your safety, and they were not unnecessary. Some of the gentry who inhabit this island would not scruple to stick a knife into you, if they thought that you were prying into their proceedings."

"I will follow your directions," answered Owen, telling Dan to go up the ladder and lower the tackle.

They at once hoisted the chest and bags to the floor above. A second lamp, which the old woman supplied, showed them a large room which extended the whole length of the building. At one end was a cabin table, with some chairs and a cot; at the other several bunks and seamen's chests. There were numerous bales and boxes placed against the walls, on which also hung a variety of arms: firelocks, blunderbusses, and pistols, cutlasses and sabres, apparently the spoils of various captured vessels.

"You see that I am not afraid of trusting you with weapons," said O'Harrall who had followed his prisoners into the place, and he pointed to the arms. "If by chance you are attacked you are welcome to defend yourselves, but I do not expect that that will happen. This building is my property; no one will come here, if you keep yourselves quiet. I have directed Mammy to get some supper for you, and the black will bring it up shortly. Now, good night. I have matters to attend to on board the _Eagle_, and it may be some days before I again visit you."

"I have to thank you for the care you take of us," answered Owen. He could not bring himself to offer his hand to the pirate, nor did the latter apparently expect him to do so.

Without further remark O'Harrall descended the ladder, and, after exchanging a few words with the old negress, took his departure.

Owen paced up and down the room, meditating on the strange position in which he was placed; while Dan and Tim sat on two chests at the further end, feeling very disconsolate. Pompey, meantime, could be heard below, chattering away to the old woman while he assisted her in preparing supper. In a short time he appeared, with a tray on his head, up the ladder.

"Cheer up, cappen," he said. "She not so bad ole woman, me tink, and p'raps tings go better dan we suppose. At all events, she make berry good fricassee." And he pointed to the dish of fowl prepared as he had described, which looked very tempting.

Notwithstanding their misfortune, Owen and his companions managed to discuss the viands placed before them with tolerable appetites, the two seamen and Pompey especially doing their part. At length Owen threw himself into his cot, and endeavoured to forget his sorrows in sleep. His followers, having secured the trap-door, imitated his example.

The next day passed without a visit from O'Harrall. Pompey alone went below to obtain food, Owen thinking it prudent to follow the pirate's advice. He spent the time walking up and down the room, occasionally trying to calm his mind by reading; so that he found the hours pass away more rapidly than did Dan or Tim, who were ignorant of the art. It occurred to him at last that he might amuse them as well as himself, and as several of his books were of an interesting character, he read aloud to them, greatly to their delight.

"Faix, captin, I niver knew there was sich beautiful things in books," exclaimed Dan, who had not in his life been read to before; "and I'll jist make bould to axe you to tache Tim and meself, and you'll find us apt scholars, if you don't think us too simple to learn."

"With all my heart," answered Owen; and thenceforth he devoted several hours during the day to the instruction of Dan and the lad, who, giving their minds to the task, rapidly learnt to read.

One day passed very much like another. A month went by without O'Harrall's making his appearance, so that Owen concluded that he had again sailed. Pompey could obtain no information. Mammy, he said, had made him promise not to go outside the door, and had threatened him with fearful punishment if he ventured to do so. There were windows to the room, but they were high up and strongly barred. Dan and Tim climbed up to them, but a grove of trees intervened between the house and the harbour, so that nothing could be seen of the vessels, while on the other side was a wide extent of sandy country, with the blue ocean in the distance.

Owen was naturally getting very weary of his captivity. What the pirate's object was in keeping him a prisoner, it was difficult to understand. He could scarcely intend to keep him a captive for life; but when would he give him his liberty was the question. Owen determined to ask him as soon as he returned. He naturally often thought over some plan for making his escape, but, unacquainted as he was with the surrounding country, and without means of gaining any knowledge of it, it was impossible to decide what to do. Dan and Tim often talked over the subject with Pompey, who, however, declared that they were so narrowly watched by the old woman that it would be impossible to succeed.

"Mammy always sleep wid one eye open and ear wide-awake," he observed. "Suppose we get out and she not raise a hullabaloo, where we go to? Wait a bit, and den we see what we do."

Pompey, in truth, was no more able than the rest of the party to devise any feasible plan for getting away.

Imprisonment is galling to all men, but it was especially so to Owen, who had hoped to make a successful voyage, and to marry his beloved Norah at the end of it. He had no means of communicating with her, and she, naturally supposing him to be lost, would be plunged in grief. He felt that he could better bear his hard fate if he could but let her know that he was alive. He might some day regain his liberty. He had no doubts about her constancy; he was sure that she would be faithful to him; and although her friends might try to induce her to marry, he felt confident that she would not do that.

At length, one evening when Pompey was sitting with his shipmates in the loft, voices were heard below.

"Hi, dat de pirate cappen," he exclaimed; and Owen prepared himself for an interview with O'Harrall.

Before long the pirate came up the ladder. A dark scowl was on his brow. Owen rose to receive him. O'Harrall advanced and threw himself into a chair, scarcely glancing at the men as he passed them.

"I am glad to see you, Captain O'Harrall, for I hope that you will allow me and my companions to quit this place, and we shall be ready to enter into any arrangement you may dictate not to betray its position," said Owen.

"I am not in the habit of placing myself in the power of others when I can help it," answered O'Harrall. "Your word may be as good as your bond, but both may be broken. I tell you plainly I intend to keep you prisoners as long as I remain in these seas. Circumstances may induce me to return to Europe, and if so, I may either carry you with me or land you at some island, from whence you may find your way to Jamaica. When that may be I cannot say. In the mean time, you must make up your mind to be content with your lot."

"You might land me, when you next sail from this, at some such place as you speak of without any detriment to yourself," said Owen; and, bethinking him that he would appeal to the pirate's better feelings, he added, "You have deprived me of my vessel and ruined my prospects of advancement. I was engaged to marry a young lady who is sincerely attached to me, and for her sake I plead for my liberty, that I may be able to return to her, or at all events inform her that I am still alive."

"Who is she?" asked O'Harrall, "although I need scarcely put the question."

"Captain Tracy's daughter--you have often seen her," answered Owen.

"I thought so," exclaimed O'Harrall. "You have counted too much on my generosity. I have not only seen her, as you say, but admire her more than any woman I have met, and should I ever wed I intend to make her my wife. Is it likely, then, that I should allow you to return home and forestall me?"

Owen's heart sank: he could not reply.

"You have but ill pleaded your cause," continued O'Harrall in the cold sarcastic tone in which he often spoke. "You saved my life, and I have preserved yours; more you cannot expect from me. Those men there behaved well to me on board the _Ouzel Galley_, and I therefore could not allow them to be killed. My sense of justice does not go further than that. You and they must make up your minds to remain where you are for an indefinite period. I came to see how you had acted, and if you behave as wisely as you have hitherto done you need not fear being subjected to any further restraint. I will, by-the-by, send you some books for your amusement. You will see by this that I do not wish to treat you with greater severity than is necessary. Now, good evening."

O'Harrall rose as he spoke, and without further remark descended the ladder, drawing the trap after him.

A parcel of books was delivered through Mammy the next day; they consisted chiefly of voyages and travels, and proved a great boon to the prisoners. O'Harrall, however, did not again appear until some weeks after this. He was, when he then came, evidently in a bad humour, his manner being even threatening towards his prisoners. He spoke as if he regretted having spared their lives, exhibiting by the expressions he used his abandoned disposition. Owen knew that his only safe course was not to answer him. He felt that it would be hopeless to attempt to arouse any better or more generous feelings. He, however, was more than ever resolved to try and escape.

Dan proposed, could they ascertain that the pirates had sailed on any expedition, to secure the old woman, make their way down to the harbour during some dark night, and attempt to gain the open sea. Once clear of the island, they might hope to get picked up by some ship, and under their circumstances they might trust even to an enemy, or they might succeed in reaching Jamaica. They must wait, however, until the hurricane season was over, and they might then, even in a canoe, navigate these calm seas without much danger.

Owen thought the plan feasible, although it might prove difficult and dangerous. It could scarcely be hoped that the pirates would leave the harbour unguarded. It might be a hard matter to find a canoe suitable for their object, and they must also obtain a supply of provisions and water. Mammy's watchful eye would effectually present them from doing this, and herein lay their first and chief difficulty.

O'Harrall had now been for some time absent. It struck Owen that perhaps the account he had given of the savage character of the inhabitants was to prevent then from leaving the house, and he resolved to try how Mammy would behave should they attempt to go out.

Pompey undertook to try and persuade her to allow them to take some exercise, as their health was suffering from their long confinement. He got her, therefore, one day into conversation, when she appeared to be in a better humour than usual, and after some time he made a signal to Tim, who was on the watch, to come down. Owen and Dan followed. Then, telling her that they would go out and take a short walk, they left the house without further ceremony, notwithstanding her expostulations.

"Nebber mind, Mammy," said Pompey; "dey come back. Me help you cook dinner meantime."

Owen took a path in the first instance away from the harbour, but as his great object was to obtain a view of it, he doubled back on the other side, and then hurried towards it. Just as they had caught sight of the water through the trees, they came upon a hut, near which they were about to pass, when Owen heard the voice of a man, as if in pain, proceeding from it. Prompted by a kind feeling and a wish to relieve the sufferer, he entered. On a rude bunk lay a white man, apparently ill of fever. He appeared greatly astonished at seeing Owen and his companions.

"Who are you?" he asked. "I thought the ship had sailed."

"I would inquire who you are?" said Owen.

"Well, sir, I am an unfortunate fellow, who wishes that he was anywhere but where he is. I see that you are not one of the _Eagle's_ crew, and so I don't mind telling you. I joined her to save my life, and now that I am ill I am allowed to die like a dog by myself, with no one to look after me. I was left on shore sick, and since I grew worse I have been unable to get any food, and I am too weak to walk."

Owen promised to try and induce Mammy to supply the poor fellow with nourishment. He would at once have hurried back, but he was anxious, having got thus far, to obtain a view of the harbour. Accordingly, telling the man he would send him relief as soon as possible, he, with Dan and Tim, left the hut, and made their way on, keeping themselves concealed as much as possible among the trees and bushes till they came in full view of the harbour.

It was a wide lagoon, which narrowed towards the southern end, where a perpendicular cliff of some extent rose directly out of the water, its summit covered with trees. Both Owen and Dan were of opinion that this formed one end of the channel leading to the sea. No boats or canoes could be discovered on the beach. Further along it to the northward were seen a number of huts and buildings of larger size, probably storehouses. People were moving about among them, but it was impossible at the distance they were to know if they were blacks or whites. In the centre of the harbour lay the _Ouzel Galley_, much in the condition in which she had been when captured, and there were several smaller vessels at anchor, completely dismantled.

So far the inspection of the harbour had been satisfactory; there was nothing that Owen could see to prevent the possibility of their escaping. The party hastened back to the house. Mammy scolded them for being so long absent. "If cappen here, you no do it," she observed; by which remark they guessed that, though she held O'Harrall in awe, she had herself no ill-feeling towards them. On Owen's telling her of the sick man, she consented to let Pompey take him some food, and undertook to visit him herself, provided they would promise not to leave the house during her absence. This they readily agreed to do.

Some days afterwards, when Owen again managed to get as far as the hut, he found the man greatly recovered. John Hempson (as he said was his name) professed himself very grateful, and declared his intention of escaping from the pirates on the first opportunity. "I suppose that they will take me to sea the next time they go," he observed, "and if I then have the chance, I will leave them. They are likely to be back soon, and, indeed, I wonder they have not come in before this."

"Well, then," said Owen, "if you ever return to the old country, you must promise to find out Captain Tracy, living near Waterford, and tell him that I am alive, and hope some day to get back. Depend on it, the captain will reward you for your trouble."

"How will he believe me?" asked Hempson.

"I will write a letter for you to deliver," said Owen. He, however, recollected that he possessed no writing materials, and he might not again have the opportunity of communicating with Hempson. That moment it occurred to him that he had a small book in his pocket. It contained but a portion of a blank leaf. He tore it out, and with the end of a stick he wrote the letters "O.M."

"When my friends see this, they will know that you are speaking the truth," he said, giving the man the paper.

Just then Dan, who had gone on ahead, came hurrying back with the information that a ship was entering the lagoon, and Owen thought it prudent at once to return to the house. Mammy, on hearing this, told her captives that they must not again venture forth, and they, of course, saw the prudence of obeying her.

O'Harrall, who had returned in the ship, paid them but one visit, when he evidently wished to find a cause for quarrelling with Owen. Owen wisely kept his temper, though Dan looked as if he would like to try the strength of his shillelagh on the pirate's head. Whether or not O'Harrall suspected that his prisoners contemplated trying to make their escape, it was difficult to say; but they found that a hut was put up close to their abode, and that it was occupied by two Spaniards, ill-looking fellows, who seemed to have nothing to do but to sit at the door and smoke all day. They did not, however, prevent Mammy going out, accompanied by Pompey, to obtain provisions; and the latter brought them word that the ship had again sailed. Pompey also found out that Hempson had gone on board the ship, and Owen hoped that he would carry out his intention of escaping. Slight as was the chance that he would convey any information to Captain Tracy, it yet raised Owen's spirits.

"We, must wait, howeber, to get 'way till we can manage dese rascal Spaniards," said Pompey. "Dey keep de eye too wide open to let us go just now."

Days and weeks and months went by, and nothing occurred to vary the monotony of their existence. The Spaniards kept too strict a watch to enable them to make any excursions out of the house, and Mammy herself seemed as cautious as she had been on their first arrival. Had it not been for the interest Owen felt in teaching his two countrymen to read, his own spirits would have broken down. Pompey also begged to go to school and join their class, but he had great trouble in learning his letters, although after he knew them he got on as rapidly as either of his companions.

Thus several months more passed by. Twice the _Eagle_ came in, and again sailed without their receiving a visit from O'Harrall. Owen was becoming more and more sick at heart. It may seem strange that he and his three companions should have been kept in such thraldom by an old woman and two Spaniards, but could these ever-watchful guardians have been overpowered, and even a canoe secured, it would have been madness to have put to sea without provisions and water, with the chance of being pursued or picked up by the pirate ship. He waited, therefore, for an opportunity, which, however, he at times thought might never arrive.

Pompey had at length one day gone out with Mammy, when on his return he brought the news that the _Eagle_ had been lost, and that the captain, with a portion only of the men, had returned in a small vessel they had captured. Owen naturally feared that O'Harrall, after his misfortune, would be in a worse temper than before, and was thankful that he did not make his appearance. Pompey accounted for it by informing them that he and all hands were on board the _Ouzel Galley_, busily employed in fitting her out.

It was now again the hurricane season, and some time would probably elapse before the pirates would venture to put to sea. For the same reason Owen considered that it would not be prudent to try and make their escape. Their chance, however, of getting off undiscovered was less than it had been before, for so great was the demand for hands to man the _Ouzel Galley_ that the two Spaniards were called away from their post, and no others were sent to take their places. One evening, about this time, Pompey made his appearance in a great state of agitation.

"What do you tink, Cappen Massey?" he exclaimed. "I talk berry often to Mammy, and not 'spect anyting, but dis berry morning I'se tell her dat, when I was one piccaninny, I'se carried away from Africa wid my mudder; when I'se come to Jamaica, one massa buy her and anoder buy me, and from dat day I neber set eyes on her. We talkee for some time, and den she cry out, 'You Pompey, my son,' and she trew her arms round my neck and burst into tears. Den I kiss her and tell her dat she right, and we laugh and cry togeder for two 'ole hours."

Owen, upon further questioning Pompey, was convinced that he was not mistaken. It greatly raised his spirits, and he had now hopes that Mammy would connive at their escape, even if she would not venture to assist at it. Pompey was very sanguine about the matter. "She so happy to find me dat she do anyting I ask," he said positively. "Neber fear, cappen, we get away soon."

It was, of course, necessary to wait till the _Ouzel Galley_, now fitted out as a piratical ship, should sail. With varied feelings Owen saw her one morning gliding out of the harbour. He, accompanied by Pompey, had gone as near to her as he could venture. He had but little to fear of being discovered, as the whole population of the place were watching the departing ship. It was certainly trying to see his own vessel sailing away in the hands of the miscreants who had captured her, on an expedition which boded ill for any merchant vessels she could overtake. She was rigged exactly as before.

Owen would not have delayed making the attempt to escape, but the nights were moonlight, and they would run a great risk of being discovered. After this bad weather came on, and a further delay occurred. Pompey had undertaken to look out for a suitable craft. It was necessary to use caution in the search lest their intention might be suspected. He had made several trips along the shore, and had discovered places where boats and canoes were hauled up, but some were too large and heavy, and others too small. At last he said that he had found one of a proper size to hold five persons, and provisions and water sufficient to last them for a week or ten days. "Five persons!" exclaimed Owen.

"Yes, cappen. Mudder says she go too. If she stop, dat fellow cut her troat."

Although Owen would rather have dispensed with the company of the old woman, yet, in common humanity, he felt bound to take her if she wished to go. It showed, also, that she had confidence in their success, and would contrive to obtain the necessary provisions. About this she had been engaged for some time, getting some in one place and some in another, so that no suspicions might be raised as to her object.

The _Ouzel Galley_ had sailed a fortnight or more, when Pompey announced that all was ready. Mammy packed up all the provisions in bundles, and had obtained two small casks of water, besides a number of gourds filled with the precious liquid. Pompey and Dan started as soon as it was dark, carrying loads, which they intended to hide near where the canoe was drawn up.

"We carry all de tings dere first," he said, "and den you, cappen, and mudder, and Tim, come along, and we shove off widout delay."

The last trip was made at about an hour before midnight, when Pompey and Dan returned, and Owen, with the old woman and Tim, accompanied them down to the beach. The night was very dark; no human being was stirring. As silently as possible the canoe was launched, when the stores were quickly put on board.

"Now, mudder, we put you 'longside cappen," whispered Pompey. "Whateber happen, don't cry out."

And taking the old woman up in his arms, he waded with her till he plumped her down in the stern of the canoe. She knew no more of the navigation than they did, so she could not be of further use to the adventurers, and they thus had to depend on their own judgment.

Owen took the after paddle. Pompey placing himself in the bows, Dan and Tim gave way, and the canoe noiselessly glided down towards the supposed entrance to the harbour. They hoped that any look-outs who might, under ordinary circumstances, have been stationed on the other side of the channel, would be withdrawn to man the _Ouzel Galley_. They therefore trusted that they could escape without being questioned. Still the expedition was one to try the best strung nerves. Owen feared that, should they be hailed, Mammy might forget her son's injunction. He was not aware of the determined character of the old woman.

They soon got into the narrow channel, in the centre of which Owen steered the canoe. It was necessary to proceed slowly, as from the darkness the shore on either side was in some places scarcely visible. The channel was long and intricate, but Owen, of course, knew that there must be considerable depth of water to allow large ships to get up it. They had just got to the end of the cliff, when a light was seen. Whether it proceeded from a hut or from a man with a lantern, it was impossible to say.

"Cease paddling," whispered Owen; and the canoe glided on with the impulse already given to it.

The light remained stationary.

"Give way," he again whispered. The men plied paddles as before. They had got some way further down, when they were startled by hearing a man shout, "Who goes there?"

They all remained perfectly silent and motionless. Just then the noise of the surf on the shore reached their ears, and they knew that they must be close to the entrance.

The man did not repeat his question for nearly a minute. As soon as he again began to speak, Owen told Dan and Tim to paddle away. He and Pompey did so likewise, and the canoe glided forward at a far more rapid rate than before. A shot was heard, but the bullet came nowhere near them. It was evident they could not be seen by the guard. The channel now widened out considerably, and they could distinguish the open sea beyond; they made towards it. There was but little or no surf on the bar, and they crossed without shipping a drop of water.

Owen had made up his mind to steer to the southward till they should sight Cuba. He felt sure that the pirate island was one of those which exist close to the Bahama Bank. Owen steered by the stars. His crew plied their paddles all night, the wind being too light to make it worth while to set the sail, and they hoped to be far out of sight of the island by daybreak. They were not without fear, however, that they might be pursued. The man who had fired at them would suppose that they were fugitives.

"Ill luck to the spalpeens who may be sent in chase after us!" observed Dan, showing what he was thinking about.

"Me no tink dat any boat come off after us," said Pompey, "'cos ebery man who can pull an oar is on board _Ouzel Galley_, so we safe as to dat."

The black's remark was cheering to Owen, who had hitherto thought it very probable that they would be pursued. Mammy, who as yet had not uttered a word, corroborated her son's statement.

When morning broke the island could scarcely be seen astern, nor was any land in sight ahead. The sea was perfectly calm; the sky overhead undimmed by a cloud. Owen looked round; no sail was visible in any direction. All they could do was to paddle on, in the hope that a favourable breeze would spring up to carry them on their course, when two at a time might get some sleep. The weather looked perfectly settled, and, though the canoe was somewhat deeply laden, Owen felt confident that she would be able to go through any sea which was likely to get up. His chief anxiety arose from the possibility there was of falling in with the _Ouzel Galley_. Should they do so, they could scarcely expect any mercy from the pirates. He, of course, intended to do his best to keep clear of her. This he trusted that he might easily do, as the canoe, being low in the water, was not likely to be attract the attention of those on board the ship, while she could be seen in time to be avoided.

A breeze came at last; the sail was hoisted, and the canoe ran merrily before it. Dan begged that he might take the steering paddle, and that the captain would lie down and get some rest, which Owen was glad to obtain, as he intended to steer during the night. The sun was setting when he awoke, and after some supper was served out he resumed the steering paddle, and told Dan and Pompey, who had hitherto been keeping watch, to turn in. Notwithstanding the sleep he had obtained, towards morning he began to feel very drowsy; still his eye was fixed on the star by which he was directing the course of the canoe.

Tim had been stationed forward to keep a look-out, and Owen had hailed him every now and then to ascertain that he was awake. He had not done so, however, for some time, and was on the point of crying out, when Tim exclaimed, "By the powers, captin, there's a big ship ahead!"

"Lower the sail!" exclaimed Owen. "Dan and Pompey, out with your paddles."

They started up at hearing their names called, and obeyed the order.

"Paddle for your lives, lads!" cried Owen, keeping the canoe to the eastward.

Tim was not mistaken. The wide-spread canvas of a large ship was seen towering upwards not half a mile away; in a few minutes more she would have been close to the canoe. Owen and his companions watched her anxiously; there could be little doubt that she was the _Ouzel Galley_. Although she was clearly seen, they might hope to escape observation. They continued, however, paddling away at right angles to her course till they were well abreast of her, when Owen once more put the canoe's head to the southward; but not, however, till she was out of sight did he venture again to hoist the sail. The danger he had chiefly feared was past. It would take her probably a day or two before she could reach the harbour and discover their flight, and they might hope thus to keep well ahead of any boat sent in pursuit of them.

Two days more they stood on. One passed by very like the other. The wind remained steady, the sea smooth.

On the fourth day, some time after sunrise, a sail was seen ahead. Had not they all felt sure that the ship they had passed was the _Ouzel Galley_, they would have avoided her. Although prepared, if necessary, to perform the whole voyage to Jamaica, Owen judged that it would be far safer to get on board the first ship they could fall in with. He resolved, therefore, to approach her, and should she prove to be English, to run alongside. He little doubted that, even should she be French or Spanish, on their giving an account of their escape from the pirates, they would be treated with humanity. He accordingly steered towards her.

"Hurrah!" cried Dan. "She's a frind, she's a frind--for, there, up goes the English flag."

His quick eye had seen the character of the bunting as it ascended in a ball to the peak, even before it blew out to the breeze.

As the canoe approached, the ship hove to, and in a few minutes the party of fugitives were alongside. Owen was quickly on deck, when the first person he encountered was Gerald Tracy. Exclamations of surprise burst from their lips, and Owen was soon shaking hands with Norman Foley and the rest of the _Champion's_ officers. His companions had followed him, Pompey shoving up old Mammy with his shoulder, while Dan hauled away at her from above. Numerous questions were put to Owen as to where he had come from, and he had to answer them before he could ask others in return.

At first he had experienced a feeling of intense satisfaction upon finding himself on board a friendly ship, but his grief may be imagined when he now heard that Captain Tracy and his daughter had fallen into the power of O'Harrall and his savage crew. Instead of rejoicing at his escape, he regretted having left the island, lest they might retaliate on their hapless prisoners. He trembled at the thought of what might be Norah's fate. Gerald, of course, shared his feelings; and, indeed, every one sympathised with them both.

As soon as the canoe was hoisted up the sails were filled, and the _Research_ again stood on her course towards the pirate's island. _

Read next: Chapter 21. Voyage Of The Research Commenced...

Read previous: Chapter 19. Two Vessels Appear Off The Island...

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