The Ruined Cities of Zululand Part 32

Gently placing Isabel in her father's arms, the soldier leaned over the half unconscious girl, and pressed his lips to her forehead, then turned to go.

The action seemed to rouse her, for rising suddenly, she threw her arms round him. "Enrico mio, do not leave me. If die we must, let us die together." A flood of tears came to her relief, and she sobbed hysterically.

"I will return, Isabel--fear not," he said, as he gently unloosed the arms which held him, and led her back to her father. "There may be some better prospect in store for us. I will return."

When Captain Hughes reached the deck, he at once saw that if their chance of escape before was small, it had greatly diminished. An eighteen-pound shot had buried itself in the heart of the main-topmast, the wind was coming in hot puffs from the land, and the sails just at that moment feeling a heavier strain than usual, the wounded mast had gone over the side with a loud crash, carrying with it sails and yards, and now floated astern clear of the brig, leaving her running before the wind, with only her main fore and fore-topmast standing, the stump of a splintered spar marking what had been a stout main-topmast.

To windward lay the wicked-looking schooner which had done all the mischief, and astern the dark, dense, ragged ma.s.s of clouds from which the heavy puffs came now and then moaning over the sea. A hot haze had crept over the ocean, not having the appearance of clouds, but still veiling the sun.

"See," said Captain Weber, laying his hand on Hughes' shoulder, pointing to the schooner as he did so; "see, she hauls down her main tack, and is running down to us; she has us completely at her mercy."

"Can we do nothing with our guns, Captain Weber?"

"Yes, we may fire them once as the villains board. You see all is ready."

The captain pointed to the two nine-pounders, which were loaded to the muzzle. The men were armed, and went about their duties with a dogged sullenness which showed their stern determination.

"Lowe will have charge of the forecastle, and I, with your friend, take the quarter-deck, the crew being equally divided."

"You will let me fight by your side?" replied the soldier.

"Not so," answered the old seaman. "Yours is a sterner duty. Any one can fight when his blood is up, and death sure, whatever happen. I am going to lower the Spanish Don and his daughter into the hold, and your station will be beside them."

"And do you for a moment think I am going to be shut up like a bandicoot in a hole, while others fight for life and liberty?" indignantly asked the soldier.

Captain Weber grasped Hughes by the hand, looking into his face, and pointing to the schooner as he spoke:

"The crew of yonder pirate are not human beings. They are steeped in murder and crime. Our fate is death, sure and certain death. Maddened by the destruction of their comrades, by their defeat in yonder Bay, no torments will be spared us. It will not be simply walking the plank, but the worst torture those practised villains can invent, which awaits us."

"Look at her white sails, and tapering spars, how beautiful she is, as she sheers down on us. Is all this possible?"

"More is possible," replied the master, "Death will be our fate, but not the lady's. A life-long servitude of the vilest description on board yon floating h.e.l.l will be her fate!"

Captain Hughes covered his face with his hands, and his tall, sinewy frame shook with emotion. The loud boom of the eighteen-pounder, and the cras.h.i.+ng of the shot as it plunged into the brig's bows, the rending and riving of her timbers, were unnoticed.

"There are ten barrels of powder in the hold; to you, as the man most interested in it, I give the charge of the magazine. The barrels are piled one on another. Yours should be a cool head and a determined hand. When the last hope is over, when the brig is carried, as carried she must be, but then only, fire your pistol into the nearest keg, and rid the seas of yonder miscreant, whose white sails bear him to his doom."

A rattling peal of thunder came from the dark ma.s.s of clouds, while a vivid flash of forked lightning seemed to bury itself in the waves.

The soldier's face was pale as that of a corpse; as he removed his hand, the lines of the mouth twitched nervously.

"Your orders shall be obeyed to the letter," he said, as he struck his open palm into that of the captain.

The two stood for a moment on the deck hand in hand, looking into one another's eyes. The stern, determined face of the old seaman showed no trace of feeling as he spoke.

"Do not think, my friend, that I feel nothing. This was to have been my last voyage. The brig was half mine. We shall disappear from the face of the ocean, and in their home, in the mountains of c.u.mberland, a mother and her two sons will remain in ignorance of what far-away place holds the husband's, the father's bones." Suddenly changing his tones, "Now, my lads, rig out a chair," he continued, "and we will lower the lady out of harm's way. Captain Hughes, will you tell Dona Isabel we are ready?"

It is a terrible thing, that waiting for death, to those in the full enjoyment of health and strength. When it is met face to face in the excitement of the fight, in the crash of battle, or the chaos of elemental strife, it is terrible enough. When it comes to the worn and exhausted frame, after months, perhaps years, of agony and suffering, as a liberator, as a kind and merciful friend,--even then it is feared: that step into the vast and unfathomable abyss of the future; that new world, whence none have returned. But here it was far otherwise.

Life, health, strength, all were there; and take but away from the face of the ocean that dark, beautifully moulded hull, with its long tapering spars, and canvas as white as the driven snow; take away that floating pandemonium, with its beautiful outside appearance, and its crew of men hardened in crime, and steeped in blood and murder; and not only health, strength, and life were there, but high hopes and happiness were the lot of those who were on board the dismantled brig.

Isabel had regained her courage. Her long hair floating behind, her eyes showing no trace of tears, she had walked along the deck leaning on her lover's arm. The crew looked at her pityingly as she pa.s.sed. More than one strong man shook his clenched fist in the direction of the pirate, as Isabel, her foot on the first step of the ladder, took her last look at the scene around her. There lay the schooner, rapidly nearing the brig, which was now running dead before the wind. Far astern, a long green line on the lead-coloured sea marked the coming squall; ahead, far as could be seen, the dark-coloured ocean, over which the hot haze seemed to hang heavily, while the splintered mainmast, and torn bulwarks alone showed the dire distress of the brig's crew. The pirate had ceased firing, for the sea was rising rapidly; the black squall, too, seemed coming up like a racehorse astern, and it was time her b.l.o.o.d.y work was finished. Isabel pa.s.sed forward, one squeeze of the hand--for not a word was spoken--and she was carefully and gently sent down into the hold, her father following; the old n.o.ble having taken a formal leave of all, thanked the crew, raising his hat with punctilious politeness as he was lowered away. None now remained except the soldier. Round his waist he wore a belt, in which were placed two six-barrelled revolvers. Beside him stood the missionary, his pale, thoughtful face calm as usual, not a trace of emotion visible. He held in his left hand a heavy double-barrelled rifle, and, as he grasped his friend's with his right.

"Hughes," he said, "you have the hardest task among us. We shall fight to the last, relying on you, on your calmness and determination. No entreaty, no delusional hope must move you."

"Ay, ay," muttered the seaman, "you may trust him."

And it was evident he could be trusted, even in this dire extremity.

His face was deadly pale, but the firmly compressed lips, the determined look, the high, broad, clear forehead, all told their own tale, as, without a word, he wrung his friend's hand, and seizing the rope which dangled free, swung himself from the deck and dropped hand over hand into the hold below.

"To your stations, my lads, and we will rid the seas of the villains yet!" shouted the captain.

The brig carried little cargo, and that of a light description. Boxes and bales were neatly ranged in her hold, and piles of elephants' tusks were to be seen here and there. A large dark lanthorn threw a small circle of light around, but beyond this all was darkness. Ten barrels or kegs containing powder had been placed end on, near each other, forming two tiers. Several had been broken open, and the wood loosely replaced.

Walking carefully towards the pile, Hughes removed the head of a cask and verified the contents. There lay the ma.s.s of black glittering coa.r.s.e grains, which were to send them to their doom. Seated on a heavy case near was the Portuguese n.o.ble, and at his feet in prayer, her large black eyes tearless and raised to heaven, kneeled Isabel, the dim light just showing the two, as Dom Maxara leaned over his daughter, his grey hair mingling with her raven tresses. Having replaced the heading of the cask, the soldier looked to his pistols, examining the caps and the lock, then replacing them, walked to Isabel's side and knelt down.

All seemed still on deck, and the noise of the rus.h.i.+ng water could be heard as the brig surged on through the seas. Half an hour pa.s.sed, each minute seeming an age; for it was a fearful thing to be caged there in the darkness, knowing nothing of what was going on. Sometimes the father's heavy sobs could not be restrained, as he leaned over his daughter; but Isabel's eyes were dry, and she prayed fervently; the deep darkness in which the hold lay out of the feeble rays of the lanthorn, completing its resemblance to the tomb. A loud shout and a spattering fire were indistinctly heard, telling that the last moment was near; then the rus.h.i.+ng sound of the wind as the brig heeled over before the strength of the squall, two shots, a long cheer, with the words, "Starboard! hard a-starboard!" shouted from the deck. Gasping Isabel in his arms, Hughes rose calmly and deliberately; not a word pa.s.sed, all power of speech had left him. One kiss, one long last kiss, and he strode calmly and deliberately towards the fatal pile. Pa.s.sing his hand over his eyes, he removed the heading and plunged his fingers into the black ma.s.s. A loud shriek from Isabel rang out as she rushed across the s.p.a.ce which divided them, and threw herself into his arms. Rising, the old n.o.ble steadied himself by a pile of cases, his eyes seemed glaring out of their sockets as he strained them in the direction of the powder casks. Then came a terrible shock, the crash of splintering wood, the roar of the tempest, which had burst in fury over the doomed brig, and amidst all, one loud, despairing cry, as though the last united effort of a hundred voices. Pressing his lips to those of Isabel, his left arm encircling her--

"Mine, Isabel, in death if not in life," he murmured, as he thrust the muzzle of the c.o.c.ked pistol into the powder cask.

The hatchway opened, the light streamed down into the dreary dark hold, and he knew the pirates were upon them.

His arm tightened round Isabel's waist, his eyes glared upwards, and his finger contracted on the trigger.

"Hold your hand, Hughes!" were the words which came to his ears, shouted in his friend's voice. "Hold your hand! G.o.d, even at the last moment, has looked down upon us, and we are saved!"

Volume 2, Chapter VII.

THE PIRATE'S FATE.

His pa.s.sengers in the hold, Captain Weber, fully relying on the soldier's promise, and certain his brig could never fall into the hands of the pirates, had made his last dispositions. An old sailor named Porter was at the wheel, the crew, as it had previously been determined, were divided into two watches, one under the mate on the forecastle, the other with Wyzinski, commanded by the captain. The break of the quarter-deck had been fortified with a number of bales and boxes roused up from below, an opening for the nine-pounders having been left. The same arrangements had been made for the forecastle, and the companion ladders removed. The "Halcyon" surged along, the wind aft, under the little sail she could show, but the schooner was coming up, hand-over-hand, the wind over her quarter. The brig already felt the coming squall, and, had she not lost her masts, would have cared little for the pirate. Hauling down his foresail under his mainsail and jib, the piratical craft came sweeping up with the diminished sail. It was a beautiful sight as her low black hull drew through the waves, her flush decks crowded with men, and the long eighteen-pounder slewed fore and aft. Feeling the first puffs of the squall, she heeled over, showing the bright copper nearly to her keel, while the water swirled in jets from her wedge-like bows. On she came, driving through the seas until she was a couple of lengths only from the brig, and then a discharge of musketry, and a shout to heave-to followed.

"Run up the Union Jack," said Captain Weber, in deep guttural tones, "we will show them the temper of the old flag yet."

"Do you see yonder fellow at the wheel? If I did not know to the contrary, I should say it is the very man who led the attack in St Augustine's Bay," exclaimed the missionary.

"You are a dead rifle shot," replied the captain, speaking slowly and deliberately, "are you not?"

Another hail from the schooner followed. She was now, as has been already said, running under her mainsail and jib, and yet fore-reaching on the brig though her main tack was hauled up, her crew once more getting the eighteen-pounder ready to discharge before boarding.

"I am," replied Wyzinski, the schooner's hail being unanswered.

"Pick off that man when I raise my hand. Remember, sir," added the captain, speaking sharply and sternly, "remember, sir, I am about to play my last stake, and all depends on your aim."

Leaving Wyzinski, the seaman stood by the wheel, his eyes fixed on the schooner. It was evidently her intention to pa.s.s under the brig's bows, and range up under her lee using her gun before boarding. So near were the two craft that a biscuit could have been thrown aboard either.

"Port a little. Luff you may, Porter--"