O’Grady, stopping behind, leaped into the hole and ran his sword up to the hilt into the sand, but it met with no impediment. Again and again he plunged his sword in all directions. He saw that it was of no avail. “I must be out of this and run after the rest,” he said to himself. But to propose was easier than to execute. In vain he tried to get up the sandy sides of the pit—he made desperate efforts. He ought not to have stopped behind, and did not like to cry out. “Oh! I shall have to take the place of the disinterred body, and that would not be at all pleasant,” he muttered—“One more spring!” But no—down he came on his back, and the sand rushed down and half covered him up. He now thought that it was high time to sing out, and so he did at the very top of his voice. He shouted over and over again—no one came. His companions were getting further and further off. He scrambled to his feet and made another spring, shrieking out at the same time, “Help! help!”
Fortunately, Paul and Reuben were bringing up the rear, and Paul happening to speak of Mr O’Grady, observed that he was not in front. At that moment the cry of “Help, help!” reached his ears.
“It’s Mr O’Grady,” he exclaimed, and he ran forward to Mr Bruff and obtained leave to go and look. Reuben and several other men had, however, to go to his assistance to get poor Paddy out of the hole, and pretty hot they all became by running towards the boats, so as not to delay them. Nothing was said of O’Grady’s adventure, and the captain did not seem much surprised at no treasure having been found. A course was steered for Jamaica, where the pirates were to be tried. The Cerberus arrived at her destined port without falling in with an enemy. Numerous witnesses came forward to prove various acts of piracy committed by the prisoners, the greater number of whom were condemned to death, and were accordingly hung in chains, as the custom of those days was, to be a terror and warning to like evil-doers, as dead crows and other birds are stuck up in a field to scare away the live ones wishing to pilfer the farmer’s newly-sown seed.
The frigate having refitted in Port Royal harbour, was again to sail—like a knight-errant—in search of adventures. It was not likely that she would be long in finding them.
As soon as the commander-in-chief heard of the capture of the frigate by the mutineers, he became very anxious to re-take her. A brig of war before long arrived with a Spanish prize lately out of Puerto Cabello on the Spanish Main. Her crew gave information that the frigate was there fitting for sea by the Spaniards, to whom the mutineers had delivered her; that she was strongly armed, and manned with a half more than her former complement. It soon became known on board the Cerberus that Captain Walford had volunteered to cut out the frigate, but that the admiral objected to the exploit as too hazardous.
“Just like our skipper,” exclaimed O’Grady. “He would try it and do it too. We’d back him, and so would every man on board.”
“No fear of that,” cried several voices. “Let us but find her, and she will be ours.”
“I wish that we could have the chance,” observed Devereux to O’Grady. “It would be a fine opportunity for Gerrard, and the captain would, I think, be glad of a good excuse for placing him on the quarter-deck.”
As there was no longer a reason for Alphonse Montauban remaining on board the Cerberus, he had to be left at Jamaica to wait till an opportunity should occur for sending him to France. His friends parted from him with many regrets.
“We shall meet some day again, old fellow,” said O’Grady, as he wrung his hands. “But I say, I hope that it won’t be with swords in our fists.”