difficulty that we were able to hold our ground at all. The pirate captain, easily distinguishable among the rest by his good looks and the smartness of his dress, was here, there, and everywhere apparently at the same moment, urging on and encouraging his men in fluent Spanish, while he defended himself from the simultaneous attack of three of our people with consummate ease. He fought cheerfully, joyously, like a man who enjoys fighting, with a reckless jest on his lips, but with a ferocity that was terrible to behold. Twice I crossed swords with him. On the first occasion I had hardly engaged when I was so severely jostled that I suddenly found myself completely at his mercy, and gave myself up as lost, for his sword was descending straight upon my defenceless head as his eyes glared tiger-like into mine, when, apparently through sheer caprice, he diverted his stroke, and, instead of cleaving me to the chin, as he could easily have done, vigorously attacked the man next to me; while on the second occasion, which occurred a minute or two later, he contented himself with simply parrying my thrust, and then permitted himself to be separated from me by a rush of our men. For ten long minutes the fight raged most furiously on the brig’s deck, fortune sometimes favouring us for a moment and then deserting us in favour of the pirates. The battle occasionally resolved itself for a moment into a series of desperate single combats, during which men savagely clutched each other by the throat and stabbed at each other with shortened weapons, and then merged again into a general mêlée in which each man seemed to strike recklessly at every enemy within reach, regardless of his own safety. And then, while the fight was still in full swing, I suddenly received a terrific blow on the top of my skull and fell senseless upon the deck. My last conscious sensation was that of being trampled remorselessly under foot by a furious rush of men.
When at length I recovered my senses I found that I was lying, undressed, in a cot, suffering from a nerve-racking headache of so violent a character that I could scarcely endure to open my eyes to the brilliant sunlight that flooded the cabin of which I was an occupant. For the first minute or two after my recovery my senses were so utterly confused that I found it impossible to recall anything that had happened save that, somehow, I had been struck down in a fight. Gradually, as I lay there wrestling with the state of confusion in which I found myself plunged, my memory returned, and I recollected everything up to the moment when I had been struck down on the deck of the pirate brig. Then I began to look about me, with the view of ascertaining where I was. I found that the exceedingly roomy and comfortable cot in which I was lying was slung from the beams of an equally roomy and luxurious cabin which was furnished with a degree of mingled elegance and comfort that was seldom found afloat in those days, and indeed is very far from being common even now. The whole of the after end of this cabin was occupied by a series of windows of semi-elliptical shape, beyond which the sparkling sea could be seen, and through which a delicious, balmy, refreshing breeze was blowing. A broad locker arrangement, handsomely worked in choice mahogany, stretched right athwart the cabin immediately beneath the stern windows, and upon this stood several beautiful flowering plants in pots of elaborately hammered brass, this locker forming the top of a long sofa, or divan, upholstered in crimson velvet, which also stretched across the full width of the cabin. The interior paintwork of the apartment was a rich, creamy white, imparting a deliciously cool and bright appearance to it. The furniture which it contained, and which consisted of, among other less important matters, a table of elaborately carved mahogany, a large bookcase full of books, many of which were in sumptuous bindings, a rack containing about a dozen charts, four chairs, each one of different pattern from all the others, and a very fine, thick carpet, was all exceptionally good. The only fault that I could find with it was that it lacked uniformity of design, and suggested the idea that it had been acquired in a more or less haphazard way and at different times and places.
By the time that I had completed my survey of the cabin in which I lay I had sufficiently regained the control of my senses to realise that I was certainly not aboard the Francesca; and, that being the case, where was I? Undoubtedly aboard the pirate brig, on the deck of which I had been struck down senseless. And then arose the question, what had become of the schooner and my shipmates? Had they been captured, sunk, or driven off? That the fight was over, and had probably been over for some time, was evident; for although there was a sound of much movement on the deck overhead, with the jabber of many voices in Spanish, intermingled with frequent calls and commands, the stir and bustle were of that quiet and orderly character which conveyed to my practised ear the suggestion that the people on deck were engaged upon the task of repairing damages. For a moment the idea presented itself to me that we might possibly have proved the victors, and that the brig was in our possession, but it was dispelled the next moment by the reflection that, had such been the case, the speech on deck would have been English, not Spanish, and I should probably not have been left unattended. As my mental balance gradually recovered itself, so did my anxiety touching the fate of the Francesca and my comrades intensify, until at length I felt that I could endure the suspense no longer, but must turn out and investigate for myself. I accordingly made an effort to raise myself in my cot, but instantly sank back with an involuntary groan, for not only did the effort result in an immediate and severe attack of vertigo, but I also became aware of the fact that, in addition to the injury to my head, I had received a very painful hurt in the left breast, close above my heart. To get up and dress, as I had intended, was obviously impossible, and the only thing to be done, therefore, was to remain where I was until somebody should come to me.
I lay thus for perhaps a quarter of an hour longer, fretting and fuming at my helplessness, and still more at my ignorance of what had happened to the schooner, when the door of the cabin opened softly, and a rather good-looking young Spaniard approached my cot on tiptoe. Seeing that my eyes were open, and probably detecting a look of rationality in them, he smiled as his fingers closed gently upon my wrist to feel my pulse.
“So, señor,” he said, “you have recovered your senses at last! There was a moment when I almost began to fear that you would slip through my fingers.”
“And pray, señor, who may you be, and where am I?” I asked.
“To reply to your questions in their regular order, señor,” answered the Spaniard, “I am Miguel Fonseca, the surgeon of this brig, the name of which is the Barracouta; and you are the prisoner, or the guest, I am not quite sure which, of her commander, Captain Ricardo.”
“Captain Ricardo!” repeated I. “What is his other name?”
“Ah, señor, that I cannot tell you! We know him only as Captain Ricardo,” answered my companion.
“Thank you very much for your information,” said I. “But there are one or two matters of much greater importance to me than your captain’s name. Can you tell me, for instance, what has become of my schooner and her crew?”