"Leave your oars and draw your cutlasses!" cried Kyd, as the boats struck the beach near the spot where he had landed when he attempted to convey Kate Bellamont to it. It was not far from the Rondeel, on the west of the governor's house.
With a shout the pirates bounded on shore, about forty in number, and, hastily forming in a body, headed by Kyd, with drawn sabres and pistols, were rapidly led by him around the base of the fort and across the lawn in the direction of Jost Stoll's tavern and the West Dock. The garrison in the Rondeel was so taken by surprise at the boldness of the bucaniers, that, before they could prepare to dispute their landing, they were moving at a rapid and steady pace across the grounds in front of the White Hall towards the wicket that led into the town. But here they were met with unexpected resistance. At the head of full eighty burghers, whom he had hastily armed and assembled to oppose this strange invasion from the sea, the Earl of Bellamont advanced upon them through the gate.
"Be men!" cried the earl to his command. "Remember, though unused to arms, you now fight for your homes, your wives, your children, your own lives, and all ye hold dear. Charge them ere they can form their body!"
The governor himself rushed forward, sword in hand, as he spoke, the sturdy burghers with a shout pressed on, and the two parties were immediately engaged in a sanguinary conflict. The pirates fought with demoniac fury, while the townsmen, excited by the smell of powder and the clash of steel, dealt blows that told wherever they fell. Nevertheless, the bucaniers, by long habit, discipline, and indifference to danger, got the better of them, though scarcely numbering half their force, and drove them, in spite of the cries and commands of the earl, towards the gate. Everywhere Kyd was present, and high above the sounds of conflict was heard his voice cheering and encouraging. But, though victors for the moment, they were soon confronted with a fresh and better disciplined foe. The barges had by this time landed their crews, and they now advanced upon them with loud cries and in overpowering numbers.
"Face them! Fight each man for his own life!" shouted Kyd, as, on turning from the discomfiture of the burghers, he beheld the advance of his pursuers.
The combat was now waged with terrific fury. Now the victor, now the vanquished, Kyd attacked and defended with a degree of skill and courage that, employed in a better cause, should have had a better result. At length his men, being broken into small parties, were overpowered, and either slain or disarmed. He alone defended himself against a numerous division that had pressed him towards an oak, the branches of which grew near the window of Kate Bellamont's boudoir. They would have cut him down by mere force of numbers if they had not suddenly been restrained by the commanding voice of Fitzroy, who hitherto had been engaged in another part of the field.
"Hold, men! Back, and leave him to me!" he cried, advancing towards Kyd through the lane opened to him by his men.
"Ha! does the sea give back its dead?" cried Kyd, with horror, dropping his red cutlass and gazing upon him with mortal fear. "Can it be! Speak, I conjure thee, if thou art flesh and blood!"
"Monster, this day shall terminate thy career of crime!" replied Fitzroy, preparing to cut him down.
"By the mass! flesh or blood, I'll have a bout with thee!" cried Kyd, reassured by his voice, seizing a sabre from one of the men he had slain. "Ho! for Kate Bellamont!"