The Buccaneer - A Tale

"Put back!" repeated Dalton, casting a look of scorn upon poor

Springall; "the man's not born who could make me put back!--The ship's

my own--and the sea, the broad sea we look upon, is mine, as long as I

have strength to dip an oar in its brine, or wit to box a compass!

Avast! avast! boy; you know not what you speak of when you talk to Hugh

Dalton of putting back!"

"They'll murder us both!" said Springall, in a mournful, and almost a

reproachful tone.

"My poor boy!" replied Dalton looking in his face, and poising on high

the oar he had so vigorously dipped in the blue wave--"My true-hearted

boy! it would be, indeed, a bad recompense for your devotedness, to lead

you into the tiger's den;--for myself, I have no fear;--I will put you

on shore, and return."

"Never, master!" exclaimed the lad. "There is no one in the wide world I

care for but yourself. To serve you, I would venture all. No, no,

master, I may be but a poor weak boy in some things, but in this I am a

man. I will never leave you while I have power to serve you."

"And you will not repent it," observed the Buccaneer; the spirit of

former days rallying round his heart at the idea of danger, which ever

appeared to him the path to glory: "you will not repent it--in a right

cause too. What can I have to fear? I know that the instant I show

myself among them, they will return as one man to their duty; and IF

THEY DO NOT----"

As they neared the vessel, they perceived that not more than five or six

of their comrades were, like shadowy things, pacing the deck. Jeromio

himself, however, they noted, waiting to receive them.

Dalton, who was vigilant as brave, had previously thrown his boat-cloak

over Springall, so that he might not be recognised, and handed him a

cutlass and pistol. Whether the appearance of two, when he only expected

one, or whether the natural dread with which he always, despite himself,

regarded his captain, overpowered Jeromio, we may not guess; but as the

Buccaneer strode up the ladder, his penetrating look steadily fixed upon

the wily Italian, his quick eye perceived that twice he attempted to

level a pistol; while his more cowardly accomplices crowded behind him.

Had the villain possessed courage enough to fire as Dalton was

ascending, his life would in all probability have been the sacrifice;

but once upon the deck of his own ship, he was indeed a sea-king! For an

instant he stood proudly before Jeromio; then, presenting his pistol to

the head of the Italian, who trembled violently, he said as calmly as

if he were in the midst of friends,-"One moment's prayer; and thus I punish traitors----"