Every man on board knew that there was no hope of saving his life by surrender.
Earlier in the fight, Fidette had rushed to my side, and declared that if I thought the ship could be saved by her surrender, she would willingly give herself up. Naturally, such a suggestion was utterly repugnant to me, and I had rejected it.
The few brave fellows around me regarded the situation far more complacently than did I. Their breasts did not seem to be torn with the agony that lacerated mine. They viewed the approaching extinction as a mere incident, while to me it appeared the horrible crisis that it is to most men of our race. Besides, I had accepted the care of Fidette’s life, and was burdened with a responsibility that none of my companions shared.
As we stood there, prepared for a final and hopeless defense, we felt that within a quarter of an hour those of us who escaped the horrible knives of our assailants would be lashed to some part of the rigging and sent to the bottom of the sea with our scuttled ship.
I had sent Fidette to her cabin with the solemn injunction that she must be prepared for death. She proved to be a very brave and heroic little woman. She bade me farewell in a tender and affectionate manner, wholly different from the well-remembered parting with the trombone player, as he went over the side of the ship to a death that she knew was prepared for him. I felt that I detected real affection in the playful twist she gave to a lock of my hair that hung down over my forehead.
Every man’s experience fits his own vanity!
I had not forgotten the dear girl, however, and, racked as was my heart with conflicting emotions, I saw her, in my fancy, seated in her cabin, awaiting her doom.
There was only six of us on the quarter deck, but we were determined to sell our lives as dearly as possible. The rest of the ship’s company, many of them being unarmed, were huddled together at the bow of the vessel. We all carried heavy cutlasses, and had some sort of a chance for defense, while the poor fellows forward meekly awaited death, without hope of resistance.
We could see that the leader of the enemy was instructing his men. He pointed to us in turn, evidently assigning two of his assassins to each man. We were awaiting the onslaught with nerves at the highest tension, when suddenly I observed the eyes of our enemies moving in the direction of the starboard quarter. Something had diverted their attention from the vital instructions of their commander.
Turning my head, I saw my pretty Fidette, arrayed in her newest and brightest sea-grass, shell-bespangled dress, creeping above the gunwale of the ship, evidently from the window of her cabin. There was a sweet and gentle smile upon her face. Her long tresses, carefully combed out, streamed in the air. With all the agility of a cat, she sprang to the top of the rail and hurried forward to the standing rigging.