The Ruined Cities of Zululand Part 31

"Do you think our guns did much damage among the Malays?"

"No. It was a lucky shot that brought the villains' foresail on deck; but even in this smooth sea it needs practice to make gunners, and my lads have had none."

"But you think the pirate has left us?" It was Captain Hughes who put the question, anxiously.

"The fellow is hugging the wind instead of running down to us; and as he completely outsails us, it is a proof that he does not wish to close."

"How do you account for the great confusion on board her? With so strong a crew, the foresail should have been hoisted directly."

"The lubbers can fight like savages, but can't sail their ship, that's all," said the captain, laughing.

Steps were heard coming down the hatchway, and the mate opened the cabin-door.

"The schooner is edging nearer us, Captain Weber," he said, "and there is some long black object on her decks I can't quite make out."

"I'll be on deck in a moment, Mr Lowe. Steward, give me a small gla.s.s of brandy to finish with."

"Well, gentlemen," said the seaman, as he raised the gla.s.s, "here's to our voyage, and--"

The word was never spoken, for a distant but loud report, followed by the rending of wood, interrupted him. For a moment the old seaman stood like a statue, the next he was on deck.

The first glance explained to him the reason of the continued confusion on board the schooner, which a moment before he had sneered at as a proof of incapacity. The pirate had gone to windward, and now lay on the brig's weather quarter, the tack of her mainsail hauled up, quite out of the reach of her fire. Her crew had been busy getting up from her hold a long eighteen-pounder, which was shipped amidships, and worked on a swivel. The first shot had struck the "Halcyon's" bulwarks, just abaft the foremast, leaving a long white strip, where the wood had been torn away.

Both captain and mate looked at each other, for here seamanship was powerless.

"The b.l.o.o.d.y-minded villains!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the mate.

"They have us at their mercy," sighed the master. "Sailing more than three feet for our one, there they can stick and pound away at us as they like."

"Shall we try our range, Captain Weber?"

"Do so, but it is quite useless," was the reply, as the seaman leaned his elbows on the weather bulwarks, and gazed steadily at the schooner.

"Take good aim, my lads, and fire when you are ready."

The light report of the gun, differing so greatly from the loud heavy thud of the eighteen-pounder, was heard, and the master noted the hall as it flew from wave to wave, scattering the spray, but finally dropping with a splash into the sea, a few hundred yards short of the schooner.

"I thought as much," growled the captain. "The scoundrels have well calculated their distance."

A puff of white smoke from the schooner's deck was followed by the heavy boom of the eighteen-pound gun as the ball came whistling through the air. Captain Weber held his breath for a moment, looking anxiously at his spars, but the projectile, being aimed too high, pa.s.sed between the masts, pitching into the sea beyond.

"It's hard lines, Lowe, to serve as a target to those scoundrels," he said; "and yet I see nothing for it."

"Our only hope is in yonder cloud. If it would but come on to blow, the sea would get up quickly, and that craft would have her aim spoiled."

"Could you not tack and stand towards her?" asked the missionary, who at that moment came upon deck with Dom Maxara.

"It would be useless. Yonder schooner lies up to the wind a couple of points nearer than we can do. It is the advantage her fore and aft sails give her; besides, she has the heels of us, and can choose her distance and position. We have nothing to do but to hold on and trust to chance."

Again the white cloud of smoke on the schooner's decks, and once more the iron messenger came flying over the wave on its deadly mission. The ball struck the brig's quarter, and glancing upwards, broke its way through the deck, covering it with splinters. The man, Adams, was at the helm, and the spokes flew through his hands as he tottered for a moment, and then fell heavily forward. The mate sprang to his place, and, seizing the wheel, brought the brig rapidly on to her course, while two seamen hurrying aft bore away the wounded man, a dark stain on the white deck marking the spot where he had fallen, a large splinter having struck him on the temple.

"We must think of your daughter, Dom Maxara," said Captain Weber. "The brig is utterly powerless; but it is better that these fellows sink us, than that they put foot on her decks."

Dona Isabel sat in the cabin, where the breakfast things yet lay on the table, while beside her was Captain Hughes, his arm pa.s.sed round her waist. The tears were standing in her eyes, and her cheek was pale, for the soldier had been telling her what sort of people the schooner's crew were, and what fate would be theirs if captured. The tale had been as delicately worded as possible, for it was a hard one even from a lover's mouth.

"Cheer up, Isabel," he continued; "there is always hope so long as we keep the Malays at a distance; and if we could only have wind we might yet escape."

"I had hoped to have lived for you, Enrico," replied Isabel, her head resting on her lover's shoulder. "I can, at least, die with you."

Dom Maxara entered the cabin, seating himself beside his daughter.

Placing her hand in his, she repeated--

"We can at least die together."

"There is still a little hope," said the anxious father; "the breeze is freshening, and with it the sea is getting up, disturbing the schooner's aim. The wind may yet save us. Should it fail us, there is one thing remaining."

"And what is that, father?"

"As you said, to die together, Isabel, sooner than that a daughter of the Guzmans of Castillo should become the cast-off slave of a Malay pirate."

The tears had been standing in Isabel's eyes, and as she now turned them on her lover, there was a look of ineffable tenderness in the large black orbs.

"A strange meeting ours has been, Enrico; a strange life we have led together, living years in weeks; but you were quite as near death, my promised husband, when first we met, and yet you stand here by my side."

"There is still hope, Isabel; every moment it increases with the rising sea," replied Hughes.

"Hope or not," continued the excited Isabel, speaking hysterically, "they shall see that the daughter of sunny Portugal knows how to die.

We shall never tread our dear land again."

The loud thud of the pirate's long eighteen-pounder was here heard, and all held their breath, listening for the crashing of the timbers, but no such sound followed.

"And I who thought to show you, Enrico, the vineyards and the orange blossoms of fair Portugal. It is hard, father, to die so young."

The old n.o.ble's face worked convulsively, but his eyes were dry. Isabel had once more sat down between her father and her lover, her head resting on his shoulder; but one hand clasped in that of the n.o.ble. The soldier's face wore a sad and dejected appearance; but there was determination in the firm lines of the closed mouth and contracted brow.

"Isabel, this is foolish. What men could do we will do, and have done.

I would give what remains to me of life that you were not in this ship.

What was a few short hours since the joy and pleasure of my existence, is now turned to bitterness and grief. We have done all men can do, I repeat, and, if needs be, we must perish together sooner than that worse befall us."

Again the loud thud came down on the wind, followed by several sharp cracks like rifle reports, with the crashing of wood and the tramp of men, Captain Weber's voice dominating the confusion.

Isabel was engaged in prayer, her eyes were closed, for the riot above, produced by the tumbling masts, was something fearful. The tramp of feet on the deck, and the hurrying to and fro as the captain shouted to his men to clear away the wreck of the brig's spars which she had lost from the fire of the enemy, added to what for a few minutes seemed inextricable confusion.

Dejected and discouraged, Hughes had remained below, taking no notice of what was pa.s.sing on deck, and perfectly aware that his presence was useless. He sat looking into Isabel's face, and quietly waiting for the time when the schooner should bear down on the helpless brig to take possession, and the moment for the closing actions of life should come.

Beside them sat the old n.o.ble, his face showing signs of deep emotion, as he too grieved, not for himself, but for his daughter. She looked very beautiful as she lay back, her head supported on her lover's shoulder, her lips parted showing the white teeth, the eyes closed, and the long dark lashes wet with tears, with one hand clasped in her father's.

"Captain Weber would be glad to speak to you, sir," said the steward Masters, touching his cap.

"I will come," replied Hughes.