For there behind me was one of our men--a fine handsome Yorkshire lad of three or four and twenty--standing glaring and showing his set teeth, and his eyes with the white slightly visible round the iris. His left fist was firmly clenched, and in his right was his bare cutlass, with the blade quivering in his strong hand. "Put up your cutlass, my lad," said Mr Brooke sternly; and the man started and thrust it back. "Wait a bit--but I don't know how I am to ask you to give quarter to the fiends who did all this. No wonder the place is so silent, Herrick," he added bitterly. "Come away." He led us out, but not before we had seen that the cabins had been completely stripped. We did not stay much longer, but our time was long enough to show us that everything of value had been taken, and nothing left in the way of log or papers to tell how the barque had fallen in with the wretches. The crew had probably been surprised, and after a desperate resistance, when driven back into the cabin, fought to the last with the results we had seen. "But surely they must have killed or wounded some of the pirates?" I said. "Possibly," replied Mr Brooke; "but there has been rain since; perhaps a heavy sea, too, has washed over the deck and swept away all traces here. Let's hope they made some of them pay dearly for their work." A short inspection below showed that the barque's planking was crushed in, and that she was hopelessly damaged, even if she could have been got off, so soon after Mr Brooke gave the word to return to the boat. "I shall not touch the fire," he said. "If the captain has any wishes the boat can return. For my part I should say, let her burn." The captain listened with his brow contracted to Mr Brooke's recital, when we were back on board; I being close at hand, ready to answer a few questions as well. "Yes, let her burn," said the captain; and then he turned his back to us, but seemed to recollect himself directly, for he turned again. "Thank you, Mr Brooke," he said. "Very clear and concise. You could not have done better." Then turning to the first lieutenant, he said in a low voice-- "Reardon, I'm at my wit's end. The wretches are too cunning for us. What are we to do?" CHAPTER SEVEN. BEING PRIMED. There was a consultation in the cabin that evening, as we lay there about four miles from the stranded barque. It had fallen calm, and, as there was no urgency, the captain preferred to spare the coals, and we waited for a breeze. I heard afterwards from Mr Brooke all that took place during the discussion, during which the captain heard the principal officers' opinions, and then decided what he would do.