“Now, stand by, men! here they come; but there is only one boat-load of them, and half their number must be killed or wounded. Stand by with your pikes, pistols, and cutlasses, and let not one of them show his head above the rail. Give them a volley from your pistols as they range alongside, and then trust to cold steel for the rest. Now is your time! Fire!”
And at the word there followed a tremendous popping of pistols, mingled with the yells of the men on deck, a British cheer that sent the blood tingling through my veins and made me anathematise my helpless condition, the sharp, ringing clash of steel upon steel, and a furious trampling of bare feet upon the planks overhead.
The scuffle continued for fully three minutes, and must have been very hot while it lasted, for all through the hubbub the cries and groans of the freshly-wounded were continuous. I could hear the dull crunching sound of the sharp cutlasses shearing through bone and muscle, the shrill scream of agony, the heavy thud of bodies falling to the deck, oaths and execrations both in Spanish and in English, shouts of mutual encouragement, yells of deadly hatred, the ceaseless trampling of feet, and all the indescribable medley of sounds that accompany a sharp and stubbornly-contested hand-to-hand conflict; and in my feverish anxiety to share in the struggle I forgot all about Mendouca’s warning, and dashed myself frantically against the stout cabin-door in an effort to burst my way out. Before, however, I could succeed the hurly-burly suddenly ceased, to be almost instantly followed by a yell of exultation from the crowd overhead as the hasty rattle and splash of oars proclaimed that the attacking party had been driven off.
“Now, men, to your guns again, quick! Load smartly and give them another broadside before they get out of range!” shouted Mendouca. “Sweep them off the face of the water, if you can; let not one of them escape to tell the tale!”
A loud shout of exulting assent to this brutal exhortation pealed forth; and I heard the rumbling of the wheels on the deck as the guns were run in. This was more than I could endure; and again hurling myself furiously against the cabin-door, I at length succeeded in bursting it off its hinges. To emerge from the cabin and rush on deck was the work of a moment, and I reached the scene of action just as the loaded guns were being run out.
“Stop!” I shouted. “What are you about to do, men? You have utterly mistaken your captain’s orders if you suppose he meant you to fire upon that boat! Order them to secure the guns,” I continued, turning to Mendouca; “it surely cannot be that you are going to allow the excitement of battle to betray you into the committal of a cold-blooded murder? You have beaten off your enemies, and they are in full retreat; let that satisfy you. Hitherto you have been fighting, and, as you are aware, the present state of the law is such that you are held justifiable in your act of self-defence; but should you fire upon that boat now it will be murder, and I swear to you that if you do I will testify against you for the deed, if I live so long. Man, have you no regard for yourself? Do you suppose that the captain of yonder brig will be content to take the beating off of his boats as a final settlement of this night’s doings? I tell you he will follow you and hunt you to the world’s end, ay, and take you, sooner or later! And what do you suppose will be your fate if you murder that retreating boat’s crew? Why, you will swing for the deed, as certainly as that you now stand there glaring at me!”
“Have you finished?” he demanded, in a voice almost inarticulate with fury, his hand resting meanwhile upon the butt of a pistol that was stuck in his sash.
“Yes,” said I, “I have. That is to say, I have finished if I have succeeded in preventing the perpetration of an act of miserable cowardice that in your cooler moments would cause you to hate and despise yourself for the remainder of your life; not otherwise.”
Slowly he removed his hand from the butt of his pistol and, with a bitter laugh, drew a cigar from his pocket and lighted it.
“Secure the guns!” he shouted to his men. Then walking up to me and clutching me by the shoulder, he said—