The monsoons were still raging with the utmost fury when Robert Barthelemy entered the port, bringing the King Solomon in tow.
Black flags fluttered from every mast of the Royal Fortune and between her sails was stretched a square banner, on which was a hideous picture, a skeleton transfixed by a lance, holding an hour-glass in one hand, with its legs crossed and a bleeding heart at its feet. The Fox-Hound's standard, on the contrary, bore a man in a scarlet coat of mail, holding in his hand a flaming sword on whose point was a skull. The flag of St. George floated at her mast-head.
Amid the howling of the gale echoed the diabolical beating of drums and blare of trumpets of the captured band of the King Solomon, to whose accompaniment the pirates roared an ear-splitting song. So they sailed into the harbor.
The eleven ships all surrendered at the first shot. Barthelemy assembled all the captains on the Royal Fortune and gave them a magnificent banquet, to which, after some little hesitation, they sat down, with the exception of one man, Fletcher, who positively declared that he would not sit at the pirates' table to eat and carouse with them. Barthelemy permitted him to do as he pleased, and he turned his back upon them.
Toward the end of the entertainment, when the wine began to excite them, Barthelemy became kindly disposed, and told the captains that they could redeem their ships by paying a ransom of eight pounds of gold dust.
They instantly consented, with the exception of Fletcher who again refused, saying that he would accept no favors from pirates, and would not purchase his ship at the cost of his honor; they might do with him whatever they chose. He spoke like a true Englishman.
Barthelemy instantly gave orders to fire Fletcher's ship and burn her with her whole cargo.
Asphlant undertook to execute the command, but soon returned to report that the ship's cargo consisted of eighty negro slaves and, as he did not know whether one could kindle negroes, he had come to ask what to do with them.
Barthelemy's eyes flashed with a fiendish delight.
"Negroes?" he asked, grinding his teeth, "Throw them into the sea, they must learn to swim."