"How fares it with thee, my child?" he cried, with anxiety, pressing her to his breast.

"Safe from all but terror!"

"G.o.d bless thee! we will die together; there is no hope. Come on, ye fiends, now," he cried, turning upon his foes with one arm entwined about her, and brandishing his cutla.s.s in the calm defiance of despair.

They rushed upon him with a shout.

"Back!" cried the clear, commanding voice of their young leader, in a tone that arrested every advancing foot and suspended every cutla.s.s mid-air. "Look! there lies your late captain in his blood! Your first lieutenant is slain. I am now your leader. Obey me. Stand back, all of ye!" The men sullenly dropped their weapons and retreated to the foot of the stairs. "Earl of Bellamont! you and your niece are, from this moment, safe. Your yacht shall be instantly cleared of every man but its own crew, and you shall be at liberty to sail on your course. Call upon your captain for a cessation of hostilities on deck, while I draw off my men."

The astonished earl immediately obeyed.

"Who are you, mysterious young man?" he asked, turning to him after communicating his request to the captain. "Your voice and air are familiar."

"It matters not, my lord. I have saved thy niece from violence, and would, had I the power, earlier have put an end to this scene of bloodshed. Bid your captain call his crew to the quarter-deck, while I pa.s.s to my own vessel with my men."

The order, with the object of it, was repeated to the captain.

"Ay, ay!" he replied from the deck. "Let them go, with a left-handed blessing. But what has changed the devils about so? Have they had fighting enough?"

"We have mistaken the character of your vessel," said the young leader, evasively.

"Ha! you are there, my lion's cub, and can speak like a Christian, too.

A little fighting always makes a man feel more civilized, is my maxim, my lord," he said, looking down upon them through the skylight.

"To your own vessel, men!" said the youth, sternly. "Throw down that casket! Take not with you the value of a groat. Go as you came, with only your arms in your hands."

The men looked at each other, and surveyed their athletic young chief, who stood like a youthful Mars, with the look and bearing of resolute command. His eye rested for an instant on each man, as he saw their hesitation, with a searching and terrible glance, and, as each one encountered it, he turned his eyes away and silently obeyed. As the last man left the cabin, he said,

"Some of you return, and bear your captain's body to the decks of your own vessel. Lay him decently along the quarter-deck."

Four of the pirates came back, and raised it without a word, while he stood quietly by, leaning on his sabre.

"Michael," he said, to one who seemed to take the lead of the rest, "I make you, for the present, second in command. Have the wounded conveyed to the lugger, and the dead thrown into the sea. Be ready to cut clear of the yacht at a moment's warning; and, with what time you have, repair damages and get sail on. Work will keep the men from thinking of mischief. Go! and see that I am obeyed. I shall instantly follow you."

The bucanier departed with ready obedience to the will of the lofty spirit that had at once a.s.sumed such irresistible power over his mind.

The earl and Grace listened with surprise to the stern authority with which he governed such fierce men, and witnessed with wonder the entire control he seemed to possess over their wills. The former gazed on him for a few seconds as he stood beneath the swinging lamp, his features thrown into the deepest shadow by the falling brim of his bonnet and his drooping plume, and then spoke:

"Mysterious and wonderful young man, whoever you are, we owe you much.

This life of crime and horror is not your sphere. There is humanity about you. Tell me," he added, with irresistible curiosity, "who are you?"

"A _b.a.s.t.a.r.d_!"

It is impossible to convey the manner and emphasis with which this word was articulated. It expressed volumes to both uncle and niece. It told a dark history of shame, scorn, and disgrace; explained why, being so above them by nature, he herded with the basest. A painful tale of moral wrong and suffering it unfolded to their imaginations, save that they knew not his name or family. They read from his brief confession all that could have been told them. The earl sighed, shook his head, and was silent. Grace looked upon him with pity.

He contemplated for a moment the effect of this disclosure, and then, turning haughtily away, said,

"The service I have done you is cancelled by your discovery of the baseness of the instrument. There is debt on neither side. Adieu, my lord--adieu, Lady Grace Fitzgerald."

"How know you my name and rank?"

"And _mine_!" simultaneously exclaimed both.

"It matters not. Thou wilt learn full soon enough to scorn as well as pity me."

With these words he departed. The yacht was cleared of its piratical horde, and the two vessels separated, and soon were steering on opposite courses.

END OF BOOK I.

BOOK II.

THE EFFECT.

"'Twas in the third King William's time, When many a pirate bold Committed on the seas the crime Of shedding blood for gold."

"My name is Captain Kyd, As I sailed, as I sailed: My name is Captain Kyd, And so wickedly I did, G.o.d's laws I did forbid When I sailed."

OLD BALLAD.

BOOK II.

CHAPTER I.

"All in the olden time."

"Our ancestors smoked long pipes, wore breeches and buckles, spoke in a strange tongue, and were called Dutchmen; for what saith the chronicle?

"Dutchmen lived in those days in Nieuve-Amsterdam."

Five years have elapsed since the events narrated in the last book transpired. In the interim, the seed then sown has had time to ripen to the germe; the germe to bud, and blossom, and bear fruit: youth has advanced to manhood; the characters then forming, formed; and the effects of the various causes then in operation fully wrought, and apparent to every eye. The scene, as well as the time of the story, is now changed, and, with its actors, transformed from the Old to the New World.

In the year 1695, William the Third appointed Richard, Earl of Bellamont, governor of the province of New-York. He did not, however, receive his commission until eighteen months afterward, nor arrive in his government until April, 1698. At this period the American coast, from New-England to the Capes of Virginia, were infested by a daring bucanier, who not only swept the seas with his fast-sailing vessel, but frequently run boldly, in open day, into the harbours of New-York, Boston, and Newport. To such an extent did his depradations reach, so fearful became the terrible name of "Kyd," that at length the fisherman feared to launch his boat, the mariner to spread his sail, and citizens trembled for their safety within the very centre of their fortified towns.

Such being the state of things, Lord Bellamont, on a.s.suming the administration of colonial affairs, was especially instructed by the English government to make use of all the means placed at his command to remedy an evil so alarming, and fraught with consequences so fatal to the growth and prosperity of the colonies. For this purpose, immediately after his arrival at New-York, he had despatched the light-armed vessel which had brought him over from England in pursuit of the pirate.

She had been absent some time, and her arrival in the bay was hourly and anxiously looked for by the honest Dutch citizens. As the time for her return drew nigh, it was the custom of certain of these worthies, after the humble occupations of the day were over, to a.s.semble at eventide about the stoope of _frau_ Jost Stoll's tavern by the water side, and with their long pipes supported in their mouths with one hand, and a mug of double beer or mum held in the other, steadfastly to gaze down the bay, in expectation of the return of the crusier, the while gravely discussing their doubts of the bold bucanier's captivation by mortal ship; and by times relieving their discourse with dark tales of his marvellous and b.l.o.o.d.y exploits on the high seas.

Before entering further upon this division of the story, it perhaps may be necessary, for the proper understanding of it, to describe New-York as it was at this period. On the north side of the present Wall-street there extended from East River, then called Salt River, to the North River, a palisade ten feet high, constructed of piles firmly driven into the earth, strengthened and sustained by crosspieces of timber. The interstices were filled with earth and stone, and it was in every part ball-proof. South of this palisade lay all that then was New-York.