In a few moments the hall was a blaze of light from lamps placed in almost every place where a lamp could be made to stand.

The scene that burst upon the sight was one of enchantment.

The walls and ceiling of the cavern seemed to be covered with a frosting of diamonds, multiplying the lamps a thousand fold, and adding to them all the colors of the rainbow.

Some of the crystals which were of the purest quartz hanging from the roof, were of an enormous size, giving reflections which made the brilliancy perfectly bewildering.

The floor of the cavern was covered, not with Brussels or Wilton carpets, but with the skins of the deer and bear, which to the tread were as pleasant as the softest velvet.

Around the room were a number of frames, rudely constructed to be sure, of branches, but none the less convenient on that account, over which skins were stretched, forming comfortable couches where the men might sleep or doze away their time when not actively employed.

Near the center of the room was a large flat stone rising about two feet above the floor. The top of this stone had been made perfectly level, and over it a rich damask cloth had been spread so as to make it answer all the purposes of a table. Boxes covered with skins, and packages of merchandise answered the purpose of chairs, when chairs were wanted.

"Where is the king, I should like to know?" said Captain Flint, looking with pride around the cavern now fully lighted up; "who can show a hall in his palace that will compare with this?"

"And where is the king that is half so independent as we are?" said one of the men.

"And kings we are," said Captain Flint; "didn't they call the Buccaneers Sea Kings in the olden time?"

"But this talking isn't getting our supper ready. Where has that Indian she-devil taken herself off again?"

The person here so coa.r.s.ely alluded to, now made her appearance again, bearing a basket containing a number of bottles, decanters and drinking gla.s.ses.

She was not, to be sure, so very beautiful, but by no means so ugly as to deserve the epithet applied to her by Captain Flint.

She was an Indian woman, apparently thirty, or thirty-five years of age, of good figure and sprightly in her movements, which circ.u.mstance had probable gained for her among her own people, the name of Lightfoot.

She had once saved Captain Flint's life when a prisoner among the Indians, and fearing to return to her people, she had fled with him.

It was while flying in company with this Indian woman, that Captain Flint had accidently discovered this cave. And here the fugitives had concealed themselves for several days, until the danger which then threatened them had pa.s.sed.

It was on this occasion that it occurred to the captain, what a place of rendezvous this cave would be for himself and his gang; what a place of shelter in case of danger; what a fine storehouse for the plunder obtained in his piratical expeditions!

He immediately set about fixing it up for the purpose; and as it would be necessary to have some one to take charge of things in his absence, he thought of none whom he could more safely trust with the service, than the Indian woman who had shared his flight.

From that time, the cave became a den of pirates, as it had probably at one time been a den of wild beasts.

Which was the better condition, we leave it for the reader to decide.

The only other occupant of the cave was a negro boy of about fourteen or fifteen years of age, known by the name of Black Bill.

He seemed to be a simple, half-witted, harmless fellow, and a.s.sisted Lightfoot in doing the drudgery about the place.

"What have you got in your basket, Lightfoot?" asked Captain Flint.

"Wine," replied the Indian.

"Away with your wine," said the captain; "we must have something stronger than that. Give us some brandy; some fire-water. Where's Black Bill?" he continued.

"In de kitchen fixin' de fire," said Lightfoot.

"All right, let him heat some water," said the captain; "and now, boys, we'll make a night of it," he said, turning to his men.

The place here spoken of by Lightfoot as the kitchen, was a recess of several feet in the side of the cave, at the back of which was a crevice or fissure in the rock, extending to the outside of the mountain.

This crevice formed a natural chimney through which the smoke could escape from the fire that was kindled under it.

The water was soon heated, the table was covered with bottles, decanters and gla.s.ses of the costliest manufacture. Cold meats of different kinds, and an infinite variety of fruits were produced, and the feasting commenced.

CHAPTER IV.

Yes, the pirate and his crew were now seated round the table for the purpose as he said, of making a night of it. And a set of more perfect devils could hardly be found upon the face of the earth.

And yet there was nothing about them so far as outward appearance was concerned, that would lead you to suppose them to be the horrible wretches that they really were.

With the exception of Jones Bradley, there was not one among them who had not been guilty of almost every crime to be found on the calender of human depravity.

For some time very little was said by any of the party, but after a while as their blood warmed under the influence of the hot liquor, their tongues loosened, and they became more talkative. And to hear them, you would think that a worthier set of men were no where to be found.

Not that they pretended to any extraordinary degree of virtue, but then they had as much as anyone else. And he who pretended to any more, was either a hypocrite or a fool.

To be sure, they robbed, and murdered, and so did every one else, or would if they found it to their interest to do so.

"Hallo! Tim," shouted one of the men to another who sat at the opposite side of the table; "where is that new song that you learned the other day?"

"I've got it here," replied the person referred to, putting his finger on his forehead.

"Out with it, then."

"Let's have it," said the other.

The request being backed by the others Tim complied as follows.

THE BUCCANEER.

Fill up the bowl, Through heart and soul, Let the red wine circle free, Here's health and cheer, To the Buccaneer, The monarch of the sea!

The king may pride, In his empire wide, A robber like us is he, With iron hand, He robs on land, As we rob on the sea.

The priest in his gown, Upon us may frown, The merchant our foe may be, Let the judge in his wig, And the lawyer look big, They're robbers as well as we!

Then fill up the bowl, Through heart and through soul, Let the red wine circle free, Drink health and cheer, To the Buccaneer.

He's monarch of the sea.

"I like that song," said one of the men, whose long sober face and solemn, drawling voice had gained for him among his companions the t.i.tle of Parson. "I like that song; it has the ring of the true metal, and speaks my sentiments exactly. It's as good as a sermon, and better than some sermons I've heard."