The Pirate of the Mediterranean: A Tale of the Sea

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“She carries the Greek colours, sir, and we make her out to be our old friend the Ypsilante. I think she can be no other,” was the answer.

“It is her, there can be no doubt,” said Fleetwood; “but I wish my friend Captain Vassilato would understand our signal. I am afraid that he will destroy the mistico and kill those on board before we can get up to her.”

“There can be little to regret in that, sir,” said Saltwell. “It will save the hangman some work, if he sends them all to the bottom together.”

“You would not say so, Mr Saltwell, I am sure, did you know that there is an unfortunate girl on board, the wife of the pirate, who has rendered great service to Miss Garden, as well as her brother, a young Italian, whom I am most anxious to save, as I am also the pirate himself,” answered Fleetwood.

“Then I am sure, sir, every one on board will be most anxious to second your wishes,” said the first lieutenant. “And allow me, in the name of the officers and the ship’s company, to congratulate you, Captain Fleetwood, on the fortunate issue of our adventures in the recovery of Miss Garden. We all feel as we ought to feel—the most sincere joy and satisfaction at your happiness, and, perhaps, you’ll understand what we want to express without my making a longer speech about it, but the fact is, we haven’t had time to cut and dry one, and I didn’t like to put off saying this longer than we could help.”

“And I, on my part, must not lose a moment in thanking you, Mr Saltwell, and the officers and ship’s company, for the zeal and perseverance you have exhibited on this very trying occasion,” returned Captain Fleetwood, putting out his hand and pressing that of his first lieutenant, warmly. “You have all done me the greatest service any men could render another, and I am most sincerely grateful to you all. Pray say this to all hands, for I cannot now more publicly express my feelings. We must settle some way to mark the day as a bright one on board, but we shall have time to think about that by-and-by, and we must now see how the mistico gets on.”

It promised to fare badly enough with the unfortunate mistico. Either Zappa did not see, or did not comprehend, the Ione’s signal, for instead of attending to it, he continued running down the west shore of the island, directly into the jaws of the Greek; but he reckoned probably that he should be able to hug the shore so close that she could not come near him, and he then hoped, it seemed, to get away among the rocks and reefs to the southward, where she could not venture to follow. This the Greek was equally resolved to prevent her doing, and no sooner had she got her within range of the guns, than she opened the fire of her whole broadside on her.

Though she had not seen the people getting on board from the raft, she had no doubt of her character, and seemed determined to award her the pirate’s fate. The Ypsilante, it must be understood, was on the starboard tack, with her head about north-west, while the mistico was running about south, and about to haul up as soon as she could round the island on the larboard tack, so that the attempt to escape was not altogether so hopeless as might at first have appeared, had not the Venus gone round to intercept her. Zappa, of course, recognised the Ypsilante, and, knowing that her gunnery was not first-rate, he probably hoped that, as she could not venture into the shoal water, where the mistico was, she would not knock away any of his spars, and that he might manage to escape clear of her. The wind, however, as the two vessels approached each other, came more from the eastward, and at the same time fell considerably, thus exposing the mistico much longer to the fire of the brig, which now opened upon her at the same time with musketry. Several of the shot had told with dire effect, and those on board the Ione could perceive that many of the pirates had been killed or wounded. At last a round shot struck the mainmast, and down came the mainsail on deck. The pirates, seeing that all hopes of escaping in the vessel were gone, were observed to leap overboard in an endeavour to gain the shore by swimming, in which many of them succeeded, though some in the attempt were swept out by the current, which still set to the westward, and sunk to rise no more.

The mistico, deprived of the guiding power of the helm, and without any after sail, ran off the shore before the wind, in the direction the current was likewise drifting her. She thus passed at no great distance from the Ione, which had reached her too late to prevent the catastrophe. Captain Fleetwood, and all on board, were anxiously watching her as she drew near them. On her deck two forms only were seen. Near the shattered mainmast lay the pirate Zappa; the hue of death was on his countenance, and his side, torn and mangled by a round-shot, told that he was beyond all human help. He was not deserted in his utmost need. The unhappy Nina, faithful even to death, knelt over him. His hand was locked in hers. Her eyes watched the last faint gleam of animation which passed over those much-loved features. She recked not of her own agony, for a purple stream issuing from her neck, told where a bullet had done its fatal work on her.

In vain she tried to conceal it from her husband. It was the last sight he beheld, and it added to his dying pangs to know that she also had suffered for his crimes. Once more he opened his eyes, now growing dim with the shades of death. He beheld the look of unutterable love fixed on him, and in that, his last moment, he understood what he had before so little prized. He attempted to press her hand, but his strength failed him in the effort, his fingers relaxed their hold, and Nina, wildly calling on his name, received no answering look in return. Again and again she called, then with an agonised scream, which was heard even on board the ships of war, and which made the hearts of the rough seamen sink within them, so fearful did it sound, she fell prostrate across the lifeless body of the pirate.