“Weybhays and his men fell upon the pirates”
Cornelis felt hurt. He could see his plans being altogether upset unless he could cope with Weybhays, and clearly he and his dastardly crew were no match for that fearless man and his gallant company when it came to fighting. He must try other means; and try them quickly, lest Pelsart return and Weybhays be able to warn him.
Cornelis therefore thought of a scheme to outwit Weybhays. Amongst the latter’s party were two French soldiers, whom the pirate thought might be willing to come to terms with him and play the traitor—if he could but get into communication with them. He opened up negotiations with Weybhays, hoping thereby to be able to correspond with the Frenchmen.
He promised Weybhays that, if the latter would return the boat he had, his party should not again be attacked, and that some of the salvage from the Batavia should be given up. Weybhays agreed to this after a while, and Cornelis hugged himself as he thought that, without a boat, Weybhays could not warn Pelsart when he appeared; and he hugged himself more when, during the negotiations, he succeeded in smuggling letters to the Frenchmen, offering them six thousand livres each if they would turn traitor to Weybhays, who had insisted upon the treaty being drawn up in proper order and being signed by both parties.
The captain-general, sure in his own mind that the Frenchmen could not resist the temptation of his gold, waited serenely for the morning to come, when he was to go over to Weybhays’ island and sign the treaty; but in the meantime the gallant French soldiers had decided that it was better to be honest than to be pirates, and they therefore warned Weybhays.
Morning came, and with it Cornelis and three or four of his men. He was in high spirits, anticipating that he was about to get the better of Weybhays. Instead, he received a shock. Weybhays, making no sign that he knew aught of Cornelis’s stratagem, went down to the beach and helped him run his boat up; and then, before Cornelis knew what had happened, Weybhays and his men fell upon him, knocked him on the head, and put hors de combat two of his companions, the others succeeding in escaping in the boat.
Poor old Cornelis! When he came round he found himself trussed like a fowl for the cooking. Gone all his lofty hopes, shattered all his ambitions. Weybhays had triumphed.
But away on the other island Cornelis’s ruffianly crew were plotting and planning on his behalf—also on their own, by the way, for they felt that Cornelis was the corner-stone of their own safety, and that unless he were free they did not know how to cope with Pelsart, should he return. So without delay they tumbled into their boats and went over to Weybhays’ island, intending to do great deeds and rescue Cornelis. Weybhays was ready for them, and sent them scuttling off again—soundly beaten!
And then a frigate appeared on the horizon; and though the pirates did not know it, albeit they made a very good guess, Pelsart was standing on her deck, looking across at the islands he had left so many days ago. He was wondering what had happened during his absence, whether his company were still alive, or whether they had starved to death or died of thirst. He little knew that there had been worse foes than hunger and thirst at work!