“Lucky we found no one aboard,” gasped the sailor, whose name was Mathews; “but then I did not expect that there would be anybody about; they never leave a watch on these little craft.”
Roger still grasped the helm, and steered through the harbour’s mouth for the tiny point of light, which was the beacon of their safety, while Mathews busied himself with the sail, and with making all snug on deck.
Although the town of Vera Cruz itself was still in darkness, away to the eastward the first streaks of day were already showing, and the light on the English man-of-war lying in the offing was growing fainter. Away behind them, from the direction of the mole, the two fugitives could hear a sound as of many people in pursuit, and presently a dark patch detached itself from the darkness, and appeared to be following them; and soon they made it out to be the sail of a vessel very similar to the one they had so unceremoniously captured. She was a much larger craft, and after a while there could be no doubt that she was overhauling them. But they were now drawing well out toward the English vessel, although the latter had not yet sighted them, and the issue, so far, hung on the race between the two feluccas. The pursuing vessel crept up closer and ever closer, and Roger and Mathews began to picture themselves as adorning that bonfire in the plaza after all.
But now the English ship seemed to awake to what was going forward, and to take in the situation at once. That one felucca was flying and the other pursuing they could see at a glance. There was a puff of white smoke from her side, and a shot flew screaming over their heads and plunged into the water just in front of the pursuing felucca. Still she held on, gaining remorselessly. Her crew began to fire at the fugitives, compelling them to steer in a crouching position below the bulwarks. By an occasional backward glance Roger saw her gradually creeping up, and wondered why the English ship did not fire again; then he discovered that his own vessel was in the line of fire. The Spaniards had cleverly managed to get exactly behind him, so that the English could not fire without hitting the foremost vessel. Therefore Roger risked his life and liberty in a desperate manoeuvre. With a sweep of the tiller he put the helm hard over, and the little vessel bounded away on the opposite tack, leaving her pursuer without shelter. The English ship—the crew of which were evidently waiting for something of the sort to happen—took immediate advantage of her opportunity, and let fly her whole broadside, luckily bringing down the pursuer’s mast. After that the fugitives were safe, and half an hour later were on board the old Elizabeth, Roger talking to the captain and his fellow-officers, and Mathews below, relating marvellous adventures to his former mess-mates. Roger gave a full and graphic account of all that had happened to himself and Harry, and told of his poor friend’s death.
Luckily it turned out that the Elizabeth was on her way from the Indies to England, and had only anchored during the night in the hope of sighting one more prize; so it was by the merest chance that Roger escaped after all. The captain now made sail, and pointed his vessel’s bows for home. The voyage lasted just three months, and they met with no single enemy on the whole way.
The ship sailed into Plymouth Sound one bright summer’s morning, and, after his long absence, Roger looked once more on the country of his birth. Taking leave of the captain and officers the moment that the ship was moored and he was at liberty, he made his way up the river, as once before, to his home.
He found all his people alive and well, and great and long-continued were the rejoicings at his safe return; but poor Mary Edgwyth remained for a long time quite inconsolable at the loss of her dearly-loved brother.
But time heals all wounds, and when at length Roger asked her a certain question, her sorrow had sufficiently abated to admit of her saying “Yes” by way of answer.
Prior to this, however, Roger fitted out a small expedition on his own account, and sailed for Lonely Inlet, in order to secure the treasure of José Leirya.
He found it, strangely enough, in the identical cave where Harry and he had kept the savages at bay, and its value proved to be vastly greater than even he had imagined, despite all that he had heard regarding it.