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As the _Santa Teresa_ floated nearer, hats and handkerchiefs began to wave on board and on the sh.o.r.e. The first words that were sent landward, however, were in the tremendously excited treble of old Senora Paez.
"Praise G.o.d!" she called out. "Praise to Our Lady! We were rescued from the pirates! We were saved from death by an American privateer!
G.o.d bless the Americans and give them their freedom!"
Little she knew and less she cared that her enthusiastic utterances were heard by loyal subjects of the king of England. Hardly a cable's length away was anch.o.r.ed a stout corvette of twenty-eight guns, whose officers and men, up to that moment, had been observing the new arrival quite listlessly.
Instantly, now, there began a stir on board of her, and a boat prepared to put off to the _Santa Teresa_ upon an errand of inquiry. Before it could be lowered, however, the corvette herself was hailed by a boat from the _Tigress_.
"Up anchor, is it? Yankee trader outside?" was half angrily thrown back at that boat's message. "Ay, ay! we're coming. You may tell Captain Frobisher it isn't any trader. It's one of those Connecticut pirates. We've learned that right here.--All hands away! Up anchor, lieutenant! That old woman has told us what we're going to do."
Swiftly indeed the questions and answers were exchanging between the crowded wharf and the thrilling news-bringers on the _Santa Teresa_.
Loud and repeated were the cheers for _los Americanos_ and their plucky little cruiser. The British consul at Porto Rico was one of the listeners, and he muttered discontentedly:--
"The rebels will get all the help and information they need. Not an English merchant keel in port or due here would be safe if it weren't for the _Tigress_ and the _Hermione_. Think of it! Six cargoes ready to go out, and they'll all have to run the Yankee gantlet. There may be more than one privateer, you know."
Straight to the wharf steered the _Santa Teresa_. No sooner was her gang-plank out than her pa.s.sengers poured over it to be welcomed after the exuberant Spanish fashion.
The _Tigress_, away out at the harbor mouth, was already under way, and the _Hermione_ would soon follow her. There was a change in the state of feeling on board the frigate, however, after the return of the boat from the corvette.
"A privateer, they say?" said Captain Frobisher. "That's bad. She beat off a pirate for the Spaniard? What do you make of that, Mackenzie?"
"It's easy to read, sir," replied his foxy second in command. "It's as plain as print. The Americans are wiser than we are. They know enough to carry heavy guns. Not many of 'em, I take it, but altogether too much metal for any of these murderous picaroons."
"I'm glad they were, my boy," said the captain, heartily. "I hope they sent the devils to the bottom. I'm afraid we're to have trouble with those fellows, my boy. They can't face our cruisers, to be sure, but they may play havoc with our merchant marine. The admiralty must take severe measures with some of them."
"We'll try and do that ourselves with this one out yonder," said the lieutenant, but his duties called him away, and he did not explain precisely what was in his angry mind concerning the _Noank_.
That very saucy little man-of-war was not trying to look any further into the guarded harbor of Porto Rico. Vine Avery and his crew had returned with their report of danger. They also reported whatever they had learned of the British merchant craft, and Captain Avery had, therefore, several things to think of.
"Now, Pedro," he said to the Carib pilot, "what next?"
"Run into lagoon to-night," said Pedro. "_Noank_ get through inlet at low water. British ship stick on bar. Schooner come out again when captain say ready. Safe!"
"I understand that," said the captain, thoughtfully. "Our draft will let us in. Almost any British man-o'-war would draw too much."
"No!" replied the Carib; "captain wrong. High water on bar, deep enough for small corvette. All right. British no find channel, Deep water inside reef."
"That's it, is it?" said the captain. "Then the sooner we are through that channel, the better. All sail on, Sam. Let her go!"
The crew had already crowded around Guert Ten Eyck and his friends to hear what they had to tell. There did not seem to be anything like disappointment among them. They had expected to hear of British cruisers here away. They had known, all along, that only by sharp and daring work could they hope to find or capture their intended prizes.
"What do you think, Sam?" asked the captain, as soon as the _Noank_ was once more flying along. "Doesn't this begin to look a little squally?"
"Well, no," said the mate, soberly. "It looks like we'd best lie low for a while, that's all. What I'm thinkin' of is this. What if this Carib's lagoon and the channel into it are known to the British, or if they should be discovered while we're cooped up in there? They'd be sure to come in after us in boats. Most likely they'd come at night.
We must make calculations on that."
"That's what we can do," growled the captain. "A boat attack'd stand for hard fightin'. I ain't so sure the chances would be against us.
I'll tell you what, Sam Prentice, all that's left of a gang o' boats won't be enough to board and carry the _Noank_."
"Not if we're watchin'," said Sam.
"We won't stay in any longer'n we can help," said the captain. "I'm hopin' we are to get the right kind of information from the Spaniards."
"Not from their authorities," grimly responded the mate. "They won't do anything to make trouble between them and the British. Porto Rico is buildin' up a prime Liverpool trade just now."
"Sam!" exclaimed his friend, "you don't know human natur'! After a Porto Rico planter has been paid for his sugar, he doesn't care a copper what harbor it goes to. Besides, I'll bet on the _Santa Teresa_ people. I took 'em for the right kind all 'round."
"I'm glad they're safe, anyhow," said Prentice. "That puts me in mind of another thing, Lyme. I kind o' like it that we're not to run into Porto Rico first thing. The Spanish lawyers might put in a claim on Groot and get him shot or hung. I've talked with him. He isn't a bad sort of Dutchman."
"We'll take care of him," said the captain. "Only man we saved. Prime good seaman. He'll be one more first-rate fighter, too, when we need him."
So the _Noank_ sped on, and the two British men-of-war came sailing out of the harbor to chase her.
CHAPTER XII.
A PRIZE FOR THE NOANK.
"It doesn't take long to see all there is on one of these plantations,"
said Guert Ten Eyck to himself. "It's the laziest kind of place, though. I haven't seen a man in a hurry since I came here."
He was standing in a wide veranda which ran along the entire front, at least, of a long, two-story, fairly well-built house. There were well-kept gardens, with n.o.ble trees and shrubbery, and all the veranda was shadowy with climbing vines. It was the old Paez plantation house, and was also the present home of Senor Alvarez and his family.
"It's all very fine," Guert had remarked of it. "They're as rich as mud, but I wouldn't live here for anything. What if the _Noank_ should manage to get away without me on board of her?"
That was a black idea which seemed almost to make him shudder. He had remained here as a favored guest for over a fortnight. During these days of his Spanish plantation experiences, the _Noank_ had been idly rocking at her anchor in the sheltered cove to which her Carib pilot had steered her.
The two British war-ships had been cruising to and fro in a fruitless search for her, and their commanders were more than a little chagrined at their ill success, for they were firmly convinced that she could not be far away.
Guert had visited the sh.o.r.e, and his friends, in turn, had visited him, to be also liberally entertained at the plantation. Nothing but the great need for secrecy had prevented more extended inland hospitalities to the brave _Americanos_ who had destroyed the picaroon. The highest authorities on the island were quite ready to acknowledge so important a public service, and no Spaniard, official or otherwise, was at all likely to help the British capture the _Noank_.
Guert had been promised information of any change in the prospect for cruising. He had learned, too, that this kind of lying in ambush was altogether a customary feature of all piracy or privateering among the Antilles. Captain Avery had expected it, and had considered himself fortunate in getting so good a lagoon to lurk in. The _Tigress_ and the _Hermione_ were enemies which it would not do to trifle with.
Moreover, he had been kept well advised of the goings on in the harbor of Porto Rico, and he knew all about the English merchantmen who were discharging or taking in cargoes. One subject in particular had greatly interested the young American sailor, for there were a great many dark-skinned laborers upon the Paez and the neighboring plantations.
"If all the slaves are as well treated as they are here," Guert had thought, "they are a great deal better off than they ever were in Africa. I don't want to see any such thing in America, though. I'm sorry it's there. We don't want any more slave trade. Too many of 'em die on the way from Africa."
His ideas, of course, were very raw and incomplete. He was only a boy, and he could not see all of the mischief. He had watched the colored people in their huts, away off behind the plantation house. He had seen them at work in the fields. They seemed to be fat, merry, and not at all discontented. As for their Spanish owners, nothing could be more easy-going and careless than their way of life. Their only apparent difficulty appeared to be in finding something to do. Guert himself found enough, for all this thing was entirely new to him. He enjoyed especially his horseback rides around the country, along forest roads, and into wonderfully lovely nooks of semi-tropical vegetation.
He was all the while picking up Spanish words with great rapidity, for there was no other language to be heard, except queer African dialects among the slaves. He progressed all the better, too, because of having made a pretty good beginning before coming there. On the whole, however, his plantation days seemed a long time to look back upon, and here he stood, in the veranda, disposed to consider his situation seriously.
"What!" he suddenly exclaimed. "Could I stay here and think of the _Noank_ being out there in a fight? My own mother'd be ashamed of me, if I did!"
A light hand was on his shoulder, and a soft, kindly voice said to him:--
"My dear young friend! If I were your mother, I should feel as you say she would. I would have my brave son fighting for his country."
"O Senora Paez!" said Guert, whirling to look into her venerable face, "you all have been so good to me! But I cannot stay here while our war for liberty is going on."