Chapter Twenty Four.
The Capture and Recapture of the “Santa Catalina.”
I rather overslept myself that night, so that it was I close upon eight bells before I was ready to go on deck. As I reached the foot of the ladder leading to the upper deck an officer, apparently on the quarter-deck, made some remark which I, being below, did not catch; but I did that of Captain Calderon, who immediately replied quite loud enough for me to hear:
“A schooner in these waters is always an object to be looked upon with suspicion, but the Dolphin has gone to the bottom, thanks be to the Blessed Virgin, and I do not think we need fear anything else of her rig that we may meet with hereabouts. Still, I do not altogether like the looks of that fellow yonder.”
I smiled as this back-handed compliment to the poor Dolphin came floating down the hatchway, and turned back to my berth for a minute or two in order that those on deck might have no cause to think I had overheard a remark which obviously was not intended to reach my ears. Then I went on deck, and found the skipper with two or three officers grouped near the capstan and intently eyeing some object to windward.
The wind, I discovered, had fallen light during the night, and had hauled round from the eastward, in consequence of which the Santa Catalina was then heading due north, close-hauled upon the larboard tack, with hardly enough motion through the water to give her steerage-way. The object which was exciting so much interest among the Spanish officers was a schooner broad on our weather-beam, about eight miles distant, and consequently hull-down from the deck. She was steering about west-north-west, and appeared to have every stitch of canvas packed upon her that her crew could spread, including square-sail, topgallant, topmast, and lower studding-sails, which was not at all surprising, considering that the wind was light and dead fair for her. It was apparent enough to me, however, that the Spaniards did not like the look of her.
I was greeted with great cordiality by the little group as I made my appearance on deck; the kindest hopes were expressed that I had passed a comfortable night, and I was promptly invited to take breakfast with the skipper in his cabin. These compliments being duly paid and acknowledged, Captain Calderon remarked:
“We have been looking at that schooner yonder, and wondering who and what she can be. Schooners—unless they happen to be British cruisers, French privateers, or piratical craft—are seldom to be met with about here; and, though we ought to have nothing to fear from the second variety I have named, I have, to speak the plain truth, no very great desire to meet with either of the three.”
“Perhaps she is an American from one of the islands, bound up into the Gulf,” I suggested.
“Hardly that, I think,” answered Don Felix. “Tell me, did you ever see an American trader with such a beautifully cut suit of canvas as that fellow spreads?” thrusting the glass into my hand as he spoke.
I applied the instrument to my eye, taking a good long steady look at the distant vessel; and when I had completed my examination I was forced to admit that I had never seen a trader, American or otherwise, with such a handsome suit of canvas, or with everything so snug and ship-shape about her rigging as was this craft. “Still,” said I, “I am disposed to think her American from the enormous spread of her yards, which you have doubtless noticed. But if, Don Felix,” I continued, “you are really anxious to ascertain the fellow’s intentions, why not wear round on the opposite tack? That will at once make him declare himself; for if he is an honest trader he will continue to hold on his present course, whilst if he is not he will certainly alter it so as to intercept you; you will thus have plenty of time to prepare for him, as he cannot get alongside in less than a couple of hours unless the breeze freshens.”
“I was just thinking of that,” remarked Don Felix, “and I will do so. For the sake of my—ah—my—passengers, I must be cautious. We will wear ship, gentlemen, if you please, and then go to breakfast.”
This was done, the operation occupying nearly a quarter of an hour, in consequence of the lightness of the wind, and we then, a party of four, went below to breakfast.
The steward was only just pouring out our chocolate when the first lieutenant came down to say that the schooner had altered her course about four points to the southward, and evidently intended to intercept us.
Don Felix looked very blank for a moment or two on hearing this, then his brow cleared, and he remarked:
“Pooh! she cannot mean to attack us; she merely wishes to speak. Hoist the Spanish ensign, sir, she will not interfere with us when she sees that!”
I must say I had my doubts whether the mere exhibition of the Spanish ensign would have the deterrent effect Captain Calderon anticipated; however, I reflected it could not possibly matter to me—unless, of course, the craft were British, which I did not believe—so I went on composedly with my breakfast. My companions were evidently somewhat perturbed, the news just brought down into the cabin interfered considerably with the enjoyment of their meal, and I could see that they were anxiously waiting for me to finish in order that they might go on deck and see how matters were progressing. I therefore brought my repast to a hurried conclusion, and we all returned to the upper regions together.
The strange sail had by this time reduced her distance to some five miles from the Santa Catalina; and, from the course she was steering, it could no longer be doubted that she intended to pass close to us, if nothing more. Captain Calderon lost not a moment in bringing his glass to bear upon her, and so intent was his scrutiny and examination that it was fully five minutes before he removed his eye from the tube. When he did so he handed the glass to me, and I in turn had a look at her. She had now raised her hull clear of the horizon, but owing to the intense heat her outline was so magnified and distorted that it was quite impossible to get a good view of her. Still, as I watched the wavering image, the idea began to grow upon me that I had somewhere seen the craft before; and I tried for a long time to remember where it was, but without success.
“Well, what do you think of her, my friend?” asked Don Felix as I replaced the instrument in his hands.
“I do not know what to think,” said I; “but I have assuredly seen that vessel before, though where, I cannot for the life of me remember.”
“I wish you would allow me to ask you a single question,” said Don Felix very earnestly.
“Certainly,” I thoughtlessly replied; “what is it?”
“Is yonder schooner one of your cruisers?”
I had not expected such a question as this, and I did not think it at all a fair one for Don Felix to put I scarcely knew what reply to make to it, and in order to gain time I begged the loan of the glass once more, which having obtained I composedly ascended to the main-top, and from that advantageous stand-point renewed my examination. In this situation I obtained a much better view; and as I stood there swaying to the sluggish heave of the vessel, with the glass glued to my eye, my memory suddenly carried me back on board the Foam, and I once more fancied myself standing on her heaving deck watching the approach of a strange schooner running down toward us pretty much as this one was now doing; the only difference being that we then had a great deal more wind than we now had, whilst the schooner in sight showed a great deal more canvas than the one we were then so anxiously watching. But the hull was the same; the taunt spars, and especially the excessive spread of her yards it was utterly impossible to mistake; and I hurried down on deck with all speed, feeling that the Santa Catalina and every soul on board her was in a very awkward fix, to escape from which would tax our energies and ingenuity to the utmost.
“Well?” said Don Felix interrogatively, as I swung off the rail down on deck close to him.
“Don Felix,” said I, “when you asked me that question a minute or two ago I had not succeeded in identifying yonder schooner, though I felt sure I had seen her somewhere before. Now I know her; she is the vessel in which that notorious pirate, Merlani, plies his nefarious trade; and I would therefore strongly recommend you to clear for action at once.”
“Merlani!” ejaculated the skipper; “the saints defend us! It cannot be true; you are surely joking with us, señor!”
“I was never more serious in my life, Captain Calderon,” I retorted; “and to show you how grave I consider our situation, I beg that you will allow my men and myself to assist you in the defence of the ship.”
The little gentleman turned almost livid for a moment, and I really thought he was frightened; but after an ineffectual effort or two to steady his voice, he managed to stutter out passionately:
“No, señor, no; certainly not! Your offer is almost an insult—though perhaps you did not intend it as such. The Santa Catalina is a Spanish ship, and she is manned by a crew who, with her officers, are quite able to take care of her and to uphold the honour and dignity of yonder flag,” pointing as he spoke to the languidly floating ensign at the peak.
“Very good, Don Felix,” said I; “you, of course, know the capabilities of your crew far better than I do. But the schooner there is sure to be crowded with men, who, to my personal knowledge, are as desperate a set of ruffians as ever trod a deck. You will have all your work cut out to beat them off; and if you fail, what is to become of us all? I warn you that neither I nor my men will submit tamely and without a struggle to have our throats cut. If the pirates gain possession of this ship we shall fight for our lives, and if we prove victorious I shall consider the Santa Catalina my lawful prize.”
“And you shall be welcome to her, señor, on those conditions,” said Don Felix, with all the hauteur he could muster. “At present I must request that you and your people will retire below and consider yourselves as close prisoners until you hear further from me. And I rely upon your courtesy and sense of honour to relieve me of the necessity for calling upon my crew, in the present critical state of affairs, to enforce my commands.”
“You shall be instantly obeyed, Captain Calderon,” said I, highly nettled at so very unnecessary an exhibition of warmth. “Come, my lads,” I continued to my own people, who were lounging about the decks and looking somewhat wistfully at the guns, “below with you, every man, the Dolphins are to have no hand in this fight it seems. Come, down with you; no disobedience; for shame, men; would you disgrace me before all these Spaniards?”
This was enough, and the few who seemed at first inclined to hang back now pressed forward eager to show their obedience by being among the first to pass down the hatchway.
As I turned away with a bow from Don Felix and his little group of officers, the former gave the order to clear ship for action; and at the same moment Don Luis, who, it seemed, had come unobserved on deck and had heard the altercation between Don Felix and myself, pressed forward and placed himself by my side.
“I will come below with you for a moment, if I may,” said he.
“Assuredly,” said I; “I shall be glad to have a word with you, Don Luis, before the action commences. Dolphins,” I continued in English, “just look about you as you pass below, and take possession of anything you can find likely to prove handy as a weapon. I’m by no means sure we shall not be yet obliged to fight for our lives, though the dons have so scornfully refused our assistance.”
“Is that your honest conviction?” asked Don Luis, who understood English perfectly, “or is it merely the expression of a little bitterness at Captain Calderon’s singularly discourteous behaviour?”
“It is my honest conviction,” said I. “It may seem a very impertinent thing for me to say, Don Luis; but, from what I have seen of the officers and crew of this vessel, I do not believe they will be able to withstand the pirates’ attack longer than five minutes at the utmost. I am glad you have given me the opportunity to say this to you, for I should not like disaster to find you quite unprepared. Would that I could think of some means of providing for your daughter’s safety!”
“The saints be merciful to us! Do you really think matters are so desperate as that, Señor Lascelles?” ejaculated Don Luis.
“I do, indeed,” replied I.
“Then, supposing the pirates gain possession of the ship, what do you think will happen?” asked my friend, in great perturbation.
“They will undoubtedly ransack the ship and plunder her of every article of the slightest value, in the first place,” said I; “but what they will next do is not so certain. ‘Dead men tell no tales,’ however, and the chances are that every male on board will be slaughtered in cold blood, or thrown overboard, after which the ship will, doubtless, be scuttled or set on fire.”
“Stay were you are a few minutes, I pray you, my dear boy,” ejaculated Don Luis, in a tone of voice which betrayed his extreme consternation; “I must go on deck and have a word or two with Captain Calderon. I have not yet wholly lost my power or influence, though I am to some extent in disgrace.”
He hurried away and left me standing on the main-deck. My men, meanwhile, had, in obedience to my instructions, made their way below to the lower deck, and I could hear them now and then—during a momentary cessation in the din on deck and around me caused by the Spaniards’ preparations for action—rummaging about below and calling to each other.
About ten minutes later Don Luis rejoined me, with a drawn sword in his hand and a pair of pistols in the sash which girded his waist, showing that he, at all events, fully intended to do his part in the protection of the ship and those within her.
“Where are your men?” he asked.
“Gone below, whither I must now join them,” said I. “I can see that your countrymen are already regarding my prolonged presence here with jealous and mistrustful eyes.”
“Come, then,” said Don Luis, “I will go with you.”
We descended to the lower deck, and I saw, by the dim light of a lantern suspended from the beams, that most of my lads had provided themselves with at least something in the shape of a weapon. Some had armed themselves with tail-blocks, which they had routed out from somewhere; some carried marlinespikes; and others were balancing crowbars and pieces of old iron in their hands; whilst one or two had dragged to light some short lengths of chain, which, wielded by their sinewy arms, might prove formidable weapons of offence.
Don Luis looked at them, then at me, and smiled.
“You English are a most extraordinary people,” he said. “I believe you are never more happy than when fighting. Those men of yours look more like a parcel of schoolboys preparing for a holiday than men making ready for a desperate life-and-death struggle. But I must be brief; there is no time for anything like gossip now; the pirate schooner is within two miles of us, and Don Felix expects her to open fire immediately. I have tried to persuade him that he was hasty and ill-advised to refuse your offer of assistance; but the fellow is as obstinate as a pig; he will not listen to reason, albeit I believe he is growing more nervous every minute. Now, first, I want to ask you what had I better do with my daughter?”
“Stow her away as low down in the run of the ship as you can put her,” said I. “She will then be out of reach of the shot. It will also be some little time before she can be discovered by the pirates—assuming, of course, that they take the ship—and in the meantime there will be the chance of my men being able to do something. But, for the love of Heaven, Don Luis, let her not fall alive into the hands of the scoundrels!”
“She shall not, if I have to slay her with my own hand,” ejaculated Don Luis through his set teeth. “There is one thing more,” he continued hurriedly. “Your men cannot possibly do any good with those makeshift weapons with which they have provided themselves. Now, if I am willing to compromise myself to the extent of providing you all with suitable arms, will you pledge your sacred word of honour, Don Leo, that those weapons shall not be employed save against the pirates, and only then in the event of my countrymen proving unequal to cope with them.”
“Willingly,” said I, “but with this proviso, Don Luis: If the pirates conquer your countrymen and gain possession of the Santa Catalina, and we, after that, are able to recover her, I shall regard her as my prize and retain possession of her by every means in my power.”
Don Luis cogitated deeply for a full minute.
“Be it so,” he then said. “That was agreed upon between you and Don Felix, I remember; and after all it would be infinitely preferable that we should be your prisoners than that we should fall by the murderous hands of the pirates. Do you happen to know if there is any other means of gaining the deck above than the ladder by which we descended!”
“Yes,” said I; “there is another ladder abaft there which leads to the main and upper decks by way of the after hatchway.”
At this moment a muffled boom smote our ears, and a crash somewhere above us, which followed a second or two later, showed that the pirate had opened fire and was within range.
This was immediately succeeded by a confused discharge from the Santa Catalina of all the main-deck guns of the larboard broadside, one after the other.
“Don Luis,” said I, “for Heaven’s sake try to persuade Don Felix not to return the pirate’s fire. Those twelve-pounder carronades are of comparatively little use except at close quarters, and Merlani is not fool enough to give you the chance to use them to advantage; he will simply heave to out of range and blaze away with his long gun until more than half your crew are killed, when he will dash alongside and carry the ship without an effort. Tell Don Felix to double-shot his guns and to depress them as much as he can, but not to fire. Let the schooner come alongside—haul down your ensign if you cannot otherwise get him to come—and, when the schooner is close under the muzzles of your guns, fire, and your shot will go right through her bottom. The pirates will then be obliged to board, when, with the advantage afforded by the Catalina’s high sides, you ought to have things all your own way.”
“Thanks! thanks! I will see what I can do,” said Don Luis. “But now, come this way, and bring your men with you; I will take it upon myself to arm you, and then, if the worst comes to the worst, I shall look to you to save ay daughter.”
“And I will do it or perish!” I exclaimed fervently, as I beckoned the Dolphins to follow me and made sail in the wake of Don Luis.
He led us along until we reached the after hatchway, through which we ascended to the deck above, when we again turned aft until we reached a bulkhead inclosing a room beneath Don Felix’s cabin. Don Luis threw open a door in this bulkhead, and exclaiming:
“There, help yourselves; I providentially noticed this room as I was coming down to you just now,” rushed away on deck.
The room disclosed by the opening of the door was of some extent, occupying nearly half the breadth of the vessel; and it had evidently been fitted up as an armoury when the ship had been doing duty as a man-of-war, for though sundry unoccupied pegs and pins showed that the present crew had just been armed from this place, there still remained weapons enough unappropriated for more than twice our numbers. The weapons consisted of muskets, pistols, swords, and cutlasses; but, as there were of course no cartridges lying about, we chose cutlasses only, and, having secured them, hurried back to our former lurking-place. Once safely back there, I lost no time in briefly, yet as fully as possible, explaining the position of affairs to my followers; after which we sat down and calmly waited the course of events, I employing the interval in comparing notes with those of the Dolphin’s officers who had been taken off the floating deck.
Meanwhile gun after gun had been fired by the pirates, to which Don Felix had persistently replied; but after a time the firing ceased overhead, and I was in hopes that Don Luis had been able to persuade the skipper to follow my advice.
At length, after a somewhat tedious interval of suspense, a sharp order or two was given on deck, quickly followed by the simultaneous discharge of the whole of the Santa Catalina’s larboard broadside. A terrible din of shrieks, yells, shouts, and imprecations—heard but very imperfectly by us down below—immediately succeeded. A crash of artillery, accompanied by the thud of shot against the ship’s sides, and the rending of timber overhead, told us that the pirate schooner had promptly returned the broadside, and a slight but very perceptible concussion a minute later indicated that she was alongside. A rattling fire of musketry was immediately opened from the deck of the Santa Catalina, to which the pirates replied with their pistols. Orders were shouted on both sides, the sharp cries of the wounded, and the muffled thud of their bodies falling to the deck, began to mingle with the officers’ shouts of encouragement and the fierce defiances of the men. There was a rush, a confused trampling of feet, more pistol-shots, the ring of steel upon steel, and a medley of human voices raised high in the excitement of mortal combat which told us that the pirates were boarding.
“There they are!” exclaimed Woodford, springing to his feet, his example in this respect being followed by the whole of the men. “Now, what do you say, Mr Lascelles, are we to go up and tackle them?”
“Not yet,” said I; “I have pledged my word that we will not interfere unless the pirates absolutely gain possession of the ship, and that pledge must be scrupulously observed. By the way,” I continued, as an idea flashed through my brain, “I wish you all to understand, my lads, that I am particularly anxious to secure the pirate captain alive, if possible; and I will give fifty pounds to the man who effects his capture. And I suppose I need not remind you that if we have to fight at all it will be for our lives. Those fellows on deck are not likely to give any quarter if they get the best of the tussle.”
“Never fear, sir,” answered Collins, one of the smartest of the crew; “we’ll give ’em a second taste of what they got from us away over there in the lagoons.”
“Ay, ay; we will. Trust us for that,” etcetera, etcetera, murmured one and another; and as I looked round at them standing there like hounds in the leash, their eyes gleaming, their feet shuffling impatiently on the deck, their cutlasses tightly grasped in their sinewy hands, their every movement betraying their excitement and eagerness to join in the fray, I felt that they most assuredly would.
Presently hasty footsteps were heard approaching, and in another moment several of the Santa Catalina’s crew came helter-skelter down the ladder, and, taking not the slightest notice of us, rushed off and disappeared in the darkness.
“Steady, lads; not yet!” said I, as the Dolphins, like one man, pulled themselves together and braced themselves for a rush.
More footsteps, and Don Luis appeared, bareheaded, in his shirt-sleeves, his right arm bleeding profusely and dangling useless and broken at his side, whilst his right hand still convulsively grasped the hilt of his broken sword.
“Quick, Don Leo,” he panted; “up with you, for the love of God! Captain Calderon’s courage failed him half an hour ago, and he left the defence of the ship to the first lieutenant, who was killed a moment ago fighting gallantly, and the crew, panic-stricken, at once gave way, scattering all over the decks like frightened sheep, and huddling by twos and threes into the first corner they could find, where they are now being savagely slaughtered by those fiends of pirates. Quick, my dear boy, or you may be too late—my daughter—oh, God, have mercy!—”
“Collins,” said I, “off with your neckerchief; quick, my man; tie it tightly about this gentleman’s arm, above the wound, mind, and stay here in charge of him until you are relieved. Now, lads, away on deck we go. Follow me; hurrah!”
The brave fellows responded with a single heart-stirring cheer as they bounded after me up ladder after ladder, and in the twinkle of a purser’s dip we found ourselves on the upper deck.
A glance sufficed to show us that Don Luis’ statement was literally true. The pirates were scattered all over the upper deck, killing the unresisting Spaniards as if they had been so many rats.
I hastily detailed the gunner with a dozen men to enter and explore the cabins, to defend them against all comers, and to capture any strangers they might discover therein; and then, Woodford leading one division and I the other, we swept the decks from the after hatchway right forward, cutting down everybody who attempted to oppose us. The pirates thus unexpectedly found themselves all huddled together in the eyes of the ship, where, their freedom of movement being seriously interfered with by the presence of the heel of the bowsprit and all the gear which so frequently hampers a ship’s forecastle-head, they were placed at a very serious disadvantage; and, though they fought desperately, we overpowered them without much difficulty, gaining possession of the ship in less than two minutes from the time of our first appearance on deck.