The scene recalled the mind of Brusque to his home and his country. The ship bore aloft the flag of France, and stirred within him feelings that he could not well define. There are few that can forget the land of their birth, particularly if parents, and one loved more warmly than kindred, be there. Brusque’s mind touched on all these points, and tears filled his eyes. “I am an outcast,” said he, “and France rejects me. I am unworthy of my parents, and, more than all, unworthy of Emilie. I must teach my heart to forget; and yet I fear it will not forget, till it ceases to feel.” With these words he sat down upon the hill, folded his arms, and with a melancholy countenance gazed at the ship as she now seemed flying past the island.
At this moment, a new object attracted his attention; this was another vessel, of small bulk, but with a prodigious spread of canvass, pursuing the first-mentioned ship. She seemed, like the sea-eagle, to have a vast expanse of wing in proportion to her body. On she flew, and was soon near the object of her pursuit. Brusque and his companion watched the scene with interest. Both saw that the pursuing vessel was a pirate ship, and that in a few minutes a desperate conflict must follow.
The pirate had now come abreast of the island, being at the distance of not more than three miles. Brusque saw a white roll of smoke uncoil itself at her side, and in a few seconds the booming voice of the cannon broke over the island. At the same time, the ball was seen to strike the water beyond the ship, and dipping at short distances, made the spray shoot high into the air. Another and another shot followed from the pirate in quick succession. These were at length returned by the ship. The two now approached. Peal after peal rung on the air. They were both completely wrapt in smoke. Yet still the firing continued. At length there was a dreadful volley as of a broadside, a thickening of the smoke, and then a fearful silence. Slowly the coiling vapor was lifted up, and the two ships were in view. All eyes seemed directed to the larger ship. Her masts and the cloud of canvass swayed heavily from side to side. Finally, they sank lower and lower, and with a heavy crash fell into the waves.
The deck was now a scene of confusion. The pirate approached, and was soon grappled to the ship. Swiftly a few of her men leaped upon the deck. There was a short struggle, and all was still. “They have yielded like a pack of cowardly hounds!” said Brusque to his companion. “Nay,” said the fisherman, “they fought bravely. That piratical craft has five hands to her one, for she has more than a hundred men on board. The other is but a merchant vessel, and had not twenty seamen. The greater part of the men who fought are passengers, and they fought bravely. Beside, there were women among them!”
“How do you know that?” said Brusque, quickly.
“I saw them,” said Piquet, “as the vessel passed.”
“What is to be done?” said Brusque, jumping up.
“What can you do?” said the other.
“What can I do?” said Brusque; “good God, I can do nothing: and women on board! women to fall into the hands of these pirates! It is too dreadful to think of. I will go down to the shore.”
“Stay,” said the fisherman; “if you show yourself we are both lost. The ship cannot be taken away, but must remain. It is likely the pirates will come ashore before they leave. It is now near sunset. Let us wait for events.”