Beadle's Dime Library No. 316 — page 10: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

10 Lafitte’s Lieutenant. ‘Was not this uofeeling, Theodore? Where | was your chief?” ‘It was, ladys On sccount of his numerous duties, Captain Lufitte,’ who permitted no cruelties of that kind, was ignorant of this deg- radation—for, miserable as he now is, be ap- ars to bave seen happier and brighter days— ut when he heard of it, he released bim from his duties. We stopped at Barrataria after we left the Balize a few days ago, to take on board some treasure concealed there, and found the old man on shore, nearly famished and torpid with exposure to the cold and rain, and took him on board, with tbe intention to leave him in Havana, where he has friends.” ‘Is he insane, did you say, Theodore?” she inquired. “He has been—but I think is not now.” ‘*Poor man! He is, no doubt the victim of some great affliction,” she said, witb feeling. **Do you know anything of his past bistory?” ‘1 do not, senora. He is studiously silent on that subject.” ‘* Is he now a menial?” she continued, looking with sympathy upon the aged man, who still stood with one hand upon the lock of the door, and his body half-protruded into the room—in which position he remained during their low- toned conversation waiting for Theodore. ‘*No, senora. He is now passenger in the schooner, and by kindness and attention to him, the captain seeks to atone for the rigorous treat- ment he has heretofore received, e also feels a strange and unaccountable interest in him.” ‘*Go, Theodore; keep him not in waiting—be ks again.” The youth left the apartment, to ascertain bis wishes, which were, to communicate, through him, to Lafitte, some instructions relating to bis landing at Havana; and then ascended to the deck, to ascertain the rate of sailing and posi- tion of the vessel which, bowling before a favor- able breeze, was within less than two days’ sail of her port of destination, CHAPTER VIII. ' | THE FIGHT OFF THE MORO CASTLE. “My eye, Bill, but tbat’s a rare tit-bit in the offing,” exclaimed a sailor straddled athwart the main-yard of an American brig-of-war— anchored near the entrance of the barbor—os- tensibly securing a gasket, but in reality roving his one eye over the harbor of Havana, its lofty castellated Moro, its walls, towers, and cathe- dral domes, its fleet of shipping, and its verdant scenery, luxuriant and green even in the second month of winter. ‘* That she is!” returned his shipmate, further in on the same yard, at the same time cockin bis larboard eye to windward, hitching up his loose trowsers and thrusting into bis cheek a enerous quid of tobacco, dropped from the topgallant-yard by a brother tar. “That she is, Sam; and she movesin stays, like a Spanish girl in a jig, and that’s Bs fine as a fairy, to my fancy.” ; ** Lay to, there, my hearty! Blast my eyes, if I haven’t seen the broadside of that craft be- fore now. If it’s nota clipper we chased in the brig last month, cruising off St. Domingo, you may say, ‘stop grog.’” “What! one o’ yer bloody pirates?” inquired Sam, with an oath, ‘* Ay! and she run in-shore, and Jay along- side of a high rock, up which they mounted like s0 many wild monkeys. We followed ’em as fast; but they beat us off and sent to the bot- tom of the sea, twenty as brave fellows as ever handled cutlass,” ** What is this?” observed languidly one of the lieutenants on deck, interrupting a most luxu- rious yawn, ‘“‘that those fellows can feel an in- terest in this infernal hot weather? Take that lass, will you, Mr. Edwards, and make us wise n the matter.” The young midshipman rose indolently from an n on which he had ensconced himself to leeward of the mizzenmast to avoid the extreme heat, even on that winter day—for winter bolds no vn through that lovely clime—and after several unsuccessful attempts at last brought the instrument into conjunction with his visual orgap. He then gazed a moment seaward, and his face, before expressionless, now beamed with pleasure. ‘*By all that’s lovely, that craft carries a pretty foot. She gliies over the water like aswan; and yet there's hardly breeze enough to fan a lady’s cheek. Look at her, sir.” The officer took the glass, and slightly raising himself so that be could see over the quarter, the vext moment convinced those around him tbat bis features bad not lost all their flexibility and that his muscles were not really dissolved by the heat, by exclaiming still more eagerly than the midsbipman: ‘* Beautiful! admirable!” ‘Can you make out her colors?’ inquired one lying upon the deck, under the awning, without raising bis head, or moving from his indolent attitude. . ‘*She carries the stars and stripes, yet she cannot be an American. There is not a boat in the navy to be compared totbis craft for beauty and velocity.” ‘* She is an armed vessel?” “ Evidently—although she shows gun nor | ed combatants have seldom trod the bsttle- port. She looks too saucy for a quakeress; ber whole bearing is warlike, and there is a frigate balf a mile to windward of her, I believe in chase,” By this time, the cflicers, yielding to curi- osity, abandoned, though reluctantly, their various comfortable positions, and gathered themselves up, to take «a view of a vessel that bad induced even their ease-loving first lieuten- ant to tbrow off his lethargy. The object of general interest—a beautiful, taunt-rigged, rakish schooner, now advanced steadily toward the entrance of the barbor. The air was scarcely in motion, yet she glided over the water with the ease and rapidity of a bird on the wing. ‘By Heaven! that craft bas been in mis- chief!” exclaimed an officer, ‘‘or that frigate would not spread such a cloud of studden’-sails in chase,” ' ‘She is no doubt a rover,” said Edwards, ‘* and looks for all the world like the twin-sister of the one we chased into that pirate’s hole in | the Gulf of Gonzaves, where poor Eustis lost bis life—if not the very same. Shall we give him a gun, sir, at any rate, for running under our flag?” ‘* No, no! we will remain neutral, As true as that schooner bas lighter heels than any craft that ever sailed the sea, she will escape her pursuer!” exclaimed the lieutenant, witb animation, ‘Unless taken between wind and water!” added another officer. ‘* See that!” As he spoke, a flame flashed from the bows of the frigate, and a shot, followed by the report of a heavy gun, re-ecboed over the waves, and carried away the bowsprit of the schooner, which was about balf a mile from the frigate. **My God! we shall be blown out of the water by tbat hasty count!” exclaimed Lafitte, as the shot struck his vessel—for on board the Ger- trude we now take our readers. ‘‘ Hoist that white flag at the peak!” he shouted, The order was obeyed; still the frigate bore down upon them, and a second shot shivered her foremast, killed sevey‘al of the crew, includ- ing bis mate Ricardo, and mortally wounded his favorite slave Cudjoe. The schooner was now wholly unmanageable —and, defeated in his exertions to get into the harbor, Lafitte put ber before the wind, which was now increasing, and ran ber ashore, about a mile to the eastward of the Moro. The frigate continued in chase .until the water became too shallow for ber draught, when she lay to and put off two of her boats filled with men, the smallest of which was com- manded by the count in person. Lafitte, although determined not to fight un- less compelled to do so in self-defense, ordered his men to their guns. The carronades were double-shotted, and band-grenades, boarding- pikes, and cutlasses, strewed the deck. He bimself was armed with a cutlass and brace of pistols, and a shade of melancholy was cast over his features, which, or the thoughts oc- casioning it, be sought to dispel by giving a succession of rapid and energetic orders to his men, The count, who learned from the prisoner be had taken at Barrataria, that this was Lafitte’s vessel, which he had fallen in with the day be- fore, after missing bim at the Balize—stood in the stern of bis boat, which swiftly approached the grounded schooner. His face was pale and rigid with settled passion. He grasped the bilt of his cutlass nervously, and bis eye glanced impatiently over the rapidly-lessening distance between him and his revenge. He saw his rival standing calinly upon the quarter-deck, survey- ing his approach with seeming indifference. This added fue] to his rage, and be cheered bis oarsmen with frenzied energy. ‘*Count D’Oyley,” said Lafitte, aloud, as the boat Game near the schooner, ‘“‘she whom you seek is safe, and in honor!” ‘‘Thou liest! slave! villain!” shouted the count; at the same moment the boat struck the side of the schooner, and be leaped, sword in band, onto ber deck, followed by a score of his men. ‘‘Now, or we sball be masracred! Fire!” cried Lafitte, in a voice that rung above the shouts of the boarders, at the same time parry- ing a blow aimed at his breast by the count, The light vessel recoiled, shuddering in ever point, from the discbarge of her whole broad- side, which was fatally hurled. The larger boat, which was within a few fathoms of the schooner, was jnstantly sunk, and fifty men were left struggling in the waves. The barge alongside shared the same fate, before half of its crew had gained the deck of the vessel. A fierce and sanguinary contest now took place. Lafitte in vain called to the count to de- sist—that Constanza was on board in safety. “Liar inthy throat! villain!’ with more rapid and energetic blows of bis cutlass, was alone the reply he received from bis infuriated antagonist. Lafitte now fought like a tiger at bay upon the quarter-deck, bis followers ep- circling him, each hand to hand and steel to steel with a boarder. Two nobler-looking men than the distinguish- ee | deck of a ship-of-war, In courage, skill, and physical energies, they seemed nearly equal, al- though the count was of slighter make and pos- sessed greeter delicacy of features. Cutlass rung egainst cutlass, and the loud clangor of their weapons was beard far above the din and uproar of battle. The combatants on both sides, as if actuated by one impulse, simulta- neously suspended the fight to gaze upon their chief, as if victory depended alone upon this single encounter. They fought for some moments with nearly equal success, mutually giving and receiving several slight wounds, wben a blow, intended by Lafitte—vho fought altogether on the defen- sive—to disarm his antagonist, shivered bis stee) boarding-cap. Jt dropped to the deck, and a profusion of rich, euburn bair fell down from bis bead, and clustered with almost feminine luxuriauce about his neck. At the same in- stant, his sword passed through the breast of Lafitte. A wild exclamation, not of pain, but of sur- prise and horror escaped him, and springing backward, he stood staring with dilated nos- trils, a heaving breast, from which a stream Oo blood flowed to the deck, and eyes almost star- ing from their sockets, upon the count, ‘Art thou of this world? speak!” he cried in accents of terror, while bis form seemed agi- tated with superhuman emotion, The count remained in an attitude of defense, displaying by the derangement of bis bair, a scar in the shape of a crescent over his brow. Transfixed with astonishment, be gszed upon bis foe, who moved not a muscle, nor betrayed any sign of life, except in the deep sepulcbral tones, with which be conjured him “to speak!” The count slightly changed bis position, an exclamation of joy escaped the venerable La- fon, and tottering forward, he fell into bis vut- stretched armss, ‘* Henri, my ier only son!” «My father!” und they were clasped in each otber’s arm, Their close embrace was interrupted by a a groan and heavy fall of Lafitte to the eck. “Henri! It is indeed my brother!’ ex- claimed the wounded man, raising bis head— ‘‘ for—forgive me, Henri, before I die!” and he fell back again to the deck, At the sound of his name, the count started, gazed earnestly upon his pale features for an instant, and all the brother yearned in his bosom. With a beart bursting with the intensity of his feelings, he silently kneeled by his side, ** Achille!” ** Henri!” They could utter no more, but in silence em- braced—the count laying bis head upon bis bro- ther’s bosom, whose arms encircled bim with fraternal love, while the aged parent, kneeling beside the reunited brothers, with his uplifted bands blessed them. : Suddenly a loud scream pierced their ears! Starting vp, the count beheld Constanza making her way with a wild air toward him, followed by Theodore, who had, till now, detained ber in the state-room, lest, in ber excitement of mind, she sbou'd mingle among the combat- ants, The voice of her Jover reached her ears in the silence that followed the discovery of the brothers, and she flew to the deck. ‘Ob, Alphonse! my Alpbonse! we will part no more!” she exclaimed, throwing herself into his arms. The count affectionately embraced her; but his face betrayed, the while, great emotion, and his eve sought his brother’s. “Take her! fold ber in your arms, Henri! She is yours—spotless as an angel!” he replied, comprehending the meaning of bis glance, “ Here, Constanza, Jeb me take your hand— yours, Henri!” and he joined them together: —‘* May God bless ard make you truly happy! “My father! my venerable father!’ he con- tinued, while bis voice grew more feeble, “T] am ashamed to look you in the face! Forgive your repentant and dying son!” The aged man kneeled by his side, and wept over him in silence, _ ‘‘ My brother—Henri!” he continued, “‘ I have wronged you; but I bave suffered for it! how deeply, language cannot tell! How painfally and fatally true, that crime brings its own punishment! Forgive me, Henri! Think not you have slain me—mine is the blame, 1 armed your hand against my life!” At that moment, as Henri bent over him, a locket sparkling with jewels, obtruded from bis bosom, and caught the eyesof Achille. With a cry of joy he seized it, and pressing it to his lips, kissed it impassionedly, ; Then holding it from him, he gazed upon the lineaments of the miniature—his pale counte- nance beaming with pleasure—while he spoke, as if to himself: ‘*My mother! my sainted mother! These eyes bave never beheld those lovely features beaming with life and inteilect! This dear im. age is all I have ever known of thee—and this I have loved from infancy, as if it were thyself! Henri,” he added, turning calmly to bis brother, CGOMIEVOOKS- ECO _— — a — - ee