"Nay, then, here they come like mad devils. God and our country! Meet them half way! St. George and at them!"
He was the first to set the example, and met the desperate charge almost single handed. The number of pirates was more than seventy, while the crew and officers of the brig did not exceed sixty. Nearly the whole of these were now engaged; those at a distance, who were unable to mingle in the mêlée and use their swords, briskly discharging their firearms, while those of either party on the skirts of the fight cheered their comrades on with loud cries. For a few moments the brig's crew had the advantage, and pressed their assailants back on every hand, while from side to side flowed the heady current of battle, and the human masses swayed this way and that like an agitated sea; and, with a roar still more terrible than the ocean in its wildest fury ever sent up, shouts of onset, cries of rage or pain, yells, and execrations filled the air, mingled with the reports of pistols, the clash of steel, and the strange thunder of a hundred feet upon the hollow decks. At length the seamen gave way before their desperate antagonists, whom the cheering voice of their leader inspired with tenfold courage and ferocity.
"At them. Leave not a man alive! One good blow and the brig is ours. Bear them down! Give no quarter! Ha, Fitzroy! Ha! do we meet again! I have sought thee to enjoy this moment. Back, hounds," he shouted to his men; "will ye press me? there is meaner game for you! I alone deal with him."
"The same moment, then, crowns my wish and thine," said Fitzroy, crossing his weapon.
They had exchanged a few fierce passes without effect, when they were separated by the tide of the conflict, and borne to opposite sides of the deck. At this moment Edwin the secretary, who had been animating the crew by his cheering cries, said quickly in the ear of Fitzroy,
"Make a sudden charge with all your force, save six men to man the two after guns; drive them back to the forecastle, if possible, and then retreat, and I will, at the same moment, turn upon them the pieces which I have already had loaded with grape." This was spoken with rapidity and clearness.
"It shall be done," was the stern reply. "Ho, my brave tars! one blow for merry England! one good blow for the king. Charge them all at once. Follow me. Hurrah for the king!"
"Hurrah for King Billy, hurrah!" shouted the seamen, with one voice, catching the spirit of their young captain.
So sudden and well directed was the charge, that the pirates gave back in a body till they reached the windlass, when, in a voice like a trumpet, Fitzroy shouted,
"Every Englishman throw himself upon his face! Fire!"