Did the sub. but know it he might have realised the cause of the British vessel's apparent lack of enterprise. The ship was the Duke of Negropont, four days out from New Orleans. Lured by the display of distress signals from the Independencia, the liner had altered helm, and borne down upon the seemingly crippled cruiser. Then a shot was fired across the liner's bows, while the white ensign fluttered down from the cruiser's stern, and was replaced by the red flag of anarchy.

The skipper of the Duke of Negropont had received due warning of the depredations of the Independencia, but since it was reported that the pirate was seen in the vicinity of the Straits of Gibraltar he never for one moment associated the vessel flying the white ensign with the modern buccaneer. But directly the first shell whizzed across the Duke of Negropont's bows the captain of the liner ordered full speed ahead, at the same time starboarding his helm.

The next two shots, fired in deadly earnest, completely demolished the navigating bridge and chart-house, and wiped the skipper and the chief officer out of existence. The concussion and the sweeping away of the bridge brought the engine-room telegraph back to "stop," and the liner, losing way, brought up within a hundred yards of her aggressor.

Still covered by the Independencia's guns, the prize was boarded by two boats' crews, and the method of despoiling the liner was almost identical with that of the two previous captures.

There was, however, one departure. The second officer of the Independencia, a Spaniard who spoke English fairly well, gave orders for the Duke of Negropont's wireless operators to be brought before him. The senior, a man of twenty-three years of age, resolutely refused to transmit the message his captor dictated. Twice Gonzales, the second officer, ordered him, using threats of instant death should he refuse.

"No tricks," exclaimed Gonzales, menacingly. "I understand what you telegraph, so do as I say."

Then it was that the owners of the Duke of Negropont received the message:—

"Independencia in collision with unknown
vessel, 4.45 a.m. Lat. 40-22-10 N., Long.
22-9-16 W. Both sank; no survivors."

Directly this decoy message was sent, the wireless gear was destroyed, and the pirates proceeded to loot the ship. But they had reckoned without the British engineers and firemen, and some of the junior officers and deck-hands who had taken refuge below.

Ignoring the indicator pointing to stop, the chief engineer restarted the engines to full speed ahead, and simultaneously a swarm of men, armed with cross-bars, shovels, and rakes, and led by their officers with revolvers in their hands, rushed on deck. Taken by surprise, and alarmed by the hitherto apparently motionless vessel gathering way, the two boatloads of pirates were borne back. Men fell on both sides, but British valour prevailed, and in less than five minutes the survivors of the boarding-party were swimming for their lives in the wake of the Duke of Negropont.