The loud thud of the pirate’s long eighteen-pounder was here heard, and all held their breath, listening for the crashing of the timbers, but no such sound followed.
“And I who thought to show you, Enrico, the vineyards and the orange blossoms of fair Portugal. It is hard, father, to die so young.”
The old noble’s face worked convulsively, but his eyes were dry. Isabel had once more sat down between her father and her lover, her head resting on his shoulder; but one hand clasped in that of the noble. The soldier’s face wore a sad and dejected appearance; but there was determination in the firm lines of the closed mouth and contracted brow.
“Isabel, this is foolish. What men could do we will do, and have done. I would give what remains to me of life that you were not in this ship. What was a few short hours since the joy and pleasure of my existence, is now turned to bitterness and grief. We have done all men can do, I repeat, and, if needs be, we must perish together sooner than that worse befall us.”
Again the loud thud came down on the wind, followed by several sharp cracks like rifle reports, with the crashing of wood and the tramp of men, Captain Weber’s voice dominating the confusion.
Isabel was engaged in prayer, her eyes were closed, for the riot above, produced by the tumbling masts, was something fearful. The tramp of feet on the deck, and the hurrying to and fro as the captain shouted to his men to clear away the wreck of the brig’s spars which she had lost from the fire of the enemy, added to what for a few minutes seemed inextricable confusion.
Dejected and discouraged, Hughes had remained below, taking no notice of what was passing on deck, and perfectly aware that his presence was useless. He sat looking into Isabel’s face, and quietly waiting for the time when the schooner should bear down on the helpless brig to take possession, and the moment for the closing actions of life should come. Beside them sat the old noble, his face showing signs of deep emotion, as he too grieved, not for himself, but for his daughter. She looked very beautiful as she lay back, her head supported on her lover’s shoulder, her lips parted showing the white teeth, the eyes closed, and the long dark lashes wet with tears, with one hand clasped in her father’s.
“Captain Weber would be glad to speak to you, sir,” said the steward Masters, touching his cap.
“I will come,” replied Hughes.