"By the cross!" exclaimed Kyd, as the sunlight struck on this flag, and a pa.s.sing breeze unfolded it to his eye as he turned to watch the chase, "'tis the same flag!"

"What flag?" inquired Loff, taking a pocket spygla.s.s from his jacket.

"Ha! you have a gla.s.s! Give it me!" he cried, hastily. "By Heaven!" he cried, after a moment's surveying, "'tis the same! The very initials.

Now the wind opens it. 'Tis the same with the earl's crest! What can it mean? This youth Edwin may have become her champion since I so foolishly gave him his liberty! He, and none else, commands the barges! But there is too much skill displayed in directing the pursuit to emanate from a boy like him! Yet why this flag? Among the dense ma.s.s of heads beneath I cannot distinguish the leader's features!"

"Shall we board the nearest yacht?" asked Loff. "We shall soon be close upon them."

Kyd turned and found that he was within a mile of three sloops that lay under the guns of the Rondeel. He looked back and saw that the barges were coming with increased speed, and would be up with him by the time he could reach the vessels. He cheered on his men with every gesture and word of encouragement; but, with all their exertions, he perceived that at every dip of their sweeps his pursuers gained on him.

At length the carronade from the leading boat opened upon them for the first time since sunrise and with terrible effect upon the nearest boat, commanded by Lawrence. Nearly every bullet told in the plank or flesh; and the ill-fated boat, which seemed to have received the whole charge from the piece, instantly went down, leaving (so effectually had it been converted into their coffin) only Lawrence and one of his comrades floating wounded upon the surface.

"For the yacht--never stop to pick him up! for the yacht! Your lives depend on your reaching it!" shouted Kyd, with desperation. "Pull, ye dogs! Strong! together all! Bend to your sweeps like devils! In five minutes we'll be on board."

But the crew of the sloop, consisting of three or four men only, were already aware of their danger; and, cutting their cable, hoisted their jib and mainsail with what haste the occasion demanded, and, aided by the wind and tide, moved swiftly down the harbour beyond their reach.

The other vessels followed this example as rapidly as possible; and, ere the pirates could get alongside, they were sailing away at a rate that defied pursuit.

"We are foiled by the devil's own aid!" said Kyd. He paused a moment.

His pursuers were close upon him, and, save the sh.o.r.e, there was no avenue of escape. To delay and fight with his reduced number, even if his jaded and dispirited men would consent to it, would have been certain capture and death. For an instant he paused, and then said, in the calm, deliberate tone he was accustomed to use in times of most imminent peril,

"We must pull in sh.o.r.e and fight our way across the town to the East River, where we can cut out one of the vessels in the dock. There is no alternative! The town's people will scarce resist us! Will you land and let me lead you, men?"

"Ay, to the sh.o.r.e!" was the general cry; and swiftly the boats cut their way towards the foot of the Rondeel, which they approached on the western side, out of the range of its few remaining guns. Close in hot pursuit came the barges, pouring in upon them a constant and fatal discharge of firearms. The carronade was no longer fired, as its rebound so materially checked the speed of the boat that it soon fell behind all the others.

"Leave your oars and draw your cutla.s.ses!" cried Kyd, as the boats struck the beach near the spot where he had landed when he attempted to convey Kate Bellamont to it. It was not far from the Rondeel, on the west of the governor's house.

With a shout the pirates bounded on sh.o.r.e, about forty in number, and, hastily forming in a body, headed by Kyd, with drawn sabres and pistols, were rapidly led by him around the base of the fort and across the lawn in the direction of Jost Stoll's tavern and the West Dock. The garrison in the Rondeel was so taken by surprise at the boldness of the bucaniers, that, before they could prepare to dispute their landing, they were moving at a rapid and steady pace across the grounds in front of the White Hall towards the wicket that led into the town. But here they were met with unexpected resistance. At the head of full eighty burghers, whom he had hastily armed and a.s.sembled to oppose this strange invasion from the sea, the Earl of Bellamont advanced upon them through the gate.

"Be men!" cried the earl to his command. "Remember, though unused to arms, you now fight for your homes, your wives, your children, your own lives, and all ye hold dear. Charge them ere they can form their body!"

The governor himself rushed forward, sword in hand, as he spoke, the st.u.r.dy burghers with a shout pressed on, and the two parties were immediately engaged in a sanguinary conflict. The pirates fought with demoniac fury, while the townsmen, excited by the smell of powder and the clash of steel, dealt blows that told wherever they fell.

Nevertheless, the bucaniers, by long habit, discipline, and indifference to danger, got the better of them, though scarcely numbering half their force, and drove them, in spite of the cries and commands of the earl, towards the gate. Everywhere Kyd was present, and high above the sounds of conflict was heard his voice cheering and encouraging. But, though victors for the moment, they were soon confronted with a fresh and better disciplined foe. The barges had by this time landed their crews, and they now advanced upon them with loud cries and in overpowering numbers.

"Face them! Fight each man for his own life!" shouted Kyd, as, on turning from the discomfiture of the burghers, he beheld the advance of his pursuers.

The combat was now waged with terrific fury. Now the victor, now the vanquished, Kyd attacked and defended with a degree of skill and courage that, employed in a better cause, should have had a better result. At length his men, being broken into small parties, were overpowered, and either slain or disarmed. He alone defended himself against a numerous division that had pressed him towards an oak, the branches of which grew near the window of Kate Bellamont's boudoir. They would have cut him down by mere force of numbers if they had not suddenly been restrained by the commanding voice of Fitzroy, who hitherto had been engaged in another part of the field.

"Hold, men! Back, and leave him to me!" he cried, advancing towards Kyd through the lane opened to him by his men.

"Ha! does the sea give back its dead?" cried Kyd, with horror, dropping his red cutla.s.s and gazing upon him with mortal fear. "Can it be! Speak, I conjure thee, if thou art flesh and blood!"

"Monster, this day shall terminate thy career of crime!" replied Fitzroy, preparing to cut him down.

"By the ma.s.s! flesh or blood, I'll have a bout with thee!" cried Kyd, rea.s.sured by his voice, seizing a sabre from one of the men he had slain. "Ho! for Kate Bellamont!"

"Ha, villain! For _thyself_, then!"

A fierce broadsword combat ensued between them, and continued for a few seconds with equal skill and energy. At length the sword of Fitzroy caught in the strand of hair about Kyd's neck and severed it. Instantly the amulet it sustained dropped to the ground. Kyd's confidence and courage seemed to fail him at once, and, striking at random, he was soon disarmed by his cooler adversary, and his life placed at his mercy.

"Strike!" said the bucanier, despondingly.

The victor was about to obey, when his uplifted arm was arrested by a shriek from the balcony, and the voice of Kate Bellamont crying,

"Spare him! save him, Fitzroy!"

The point of his weapon sunk at his feet, and he bent low to her in acquiescence; then turning to his men, he said,

"Bind him. My lord, what shall be done with him? He is at your disposal."

"Bear him to the prison of the Rondeel, there to await his trial!"

Silent and desponding, yet still holding himself with a dignified and lofty bearing, the captive pirate chief was borne, with his few surviving followers, to a dungeon in the Rondeel, while the earl, Fitzroy, and Edwin (who had not partic.i.p.ated in the contest) together entered the Hall, leaving their victorious party to clear the ensanguined field of the melancholy traces of the morning's fight.

CHAPTER VI.

"When guilt had prospered with him, all the love She bore him faded, as the floweret fades Before the simoom's breath. But when the tide Of fortune turned, and on its bosom bore His barque, dismantled by misfortune's blast, To ruin's coast, youth's warm affections came Once more with freshened vigour, and the heart That in a happier hour deigned not to save, Now felt it leaned on him, and him alone, And broke when that support was gone."

McLEOD.

Three weeks after the events just recorded, in a cell built within the ma.s.sive wall of the Rondeel, sat the terrible pirate chief whose name had so long spread terror throughout the world. It was nearly midnight.

He stood by a grated window, that looked towards the moonlit bay, in deep meditation, occasionally starting, with clanking chains, as some burning thought set his brain on fire. All at once he fancied he heard a noise, as if some one was carefully turning the lock in the door of his cell, wherein was set a grated wicket, through which the jailer could communicate with him. He started and fixed his eyes in the direction whence it proceeded, when he saw it slowly open and a m.u.f.fled figure enter. The intruder then closed it carefully and threw off the mantle.

It was Kate Bellamont. She was pale, and her n.o.ble features wore a sad and anxious look.

"Thou hast sent for me, Lester? so thy jailer told me."

"I have," he said, in the subdued tones of a chastened spirit. "I would kneel at thy feet and ask forgiveness for all the wrongs I have done thee!"

"Thou hast wronged thyself, not me, Lester! I forgive thee."

"Thanks--a thousand thanks, kind lady!" he said, overpowered by his feelings. "I dared not hope you would come to see me. Oh, lady, let me not presume too much. To-morrow morning I am to be led forth to receive my sentence. It will be death."

"Oh, speak not of it. I know it. Oh G.o.d, that I could stay the hand of justice!"

"Do you feel so much for me?"

"Feel I my heart bleeds for you," she cried, with eloquent pathos. "Oh, Lester, Lester, why have you brought this on yourself?"

"Will you forgive me?"

"May Heaven forgive as freely."

"Lady--Kate--dearest Kate! I am about to die. The approach of death fills my soul with wondrous thoughts, while penitence, like gentle dew, has strangely softened my heart. The thoughts of youth come over me like a last-night's pleasant dream, and I feel as I did when we were children together! Can you have forgotten our childhood?"

"Lester, no! Robert, Robert, you will drive me distracted."