Barthelemy, instead of returning with his prize to his comrades in Gulf Triste, spread his sails for Jamaica. He was greatly elated, and boasted loudly of the still greater enterprises which he was about to undertake. With his suddenly found wealth he would create a fleet; he would have crews of five hundred men at his command; his blood-red flag should sweep all seas; he would collect an army and ravage provinces; he would seize some large island, of which he would be the monarch, with his fleets and his armies. Thus the Portuguese pirate dreamed. He did not take God into the account. God had decided otherwise. It was a beautiful morning, as Barthelemy paced the deck, lost in these ambitious imaginings. The sky was cloudless. A fresh breeze swelled the sails, and delightfully tempered the heat of a tropical sun. A few leagues south of the Island of Cuba is the majestic Isle of Pines. Large as it is, its prominence is lost in the overpowering grandeur of its sister island. The ship was running along its southern coast. A small cloud was seen in the southwestern horizon. Rapidly it increased in size and blackness. It was a tropical tornado. Already its roar could be heard as it ploughed and lashed the seas. The terrible gale struck the ship and whirled it along as though it had been a bubble. God was there, in his sore displeasure. What could man do? Nothing. The pirates threw themselves upon their knees, and called upon the Virgin and all the saints to come and help them. But neither Virgin nor saint came. The ship struck the rocks--was dashed to pieces; the silver, the gold, the cargo, everything disappeared before those terrific blasts. Many were drowned. Barthelemy and a few of the crew were swept ashore by the mountain billows. Their clothes were torn from their backs. Their bodies were sorely bruised, and some of their bones broken, by being dashed against the rocks. Exhausted, panting, maimed, and half dead, Barthelemy found himself utterly beggared upon a lonely isle. This was the work of one short half-hour. This was the disposal God made of the pirates’ stolen spoil. A wretched, starving straggler, Barthelemy found his way to Jamaica. Here he enlisted as a common sailor on board a pirate ship, and we hear of him no more. Without doubt, he came to a miserable end; and his body was probably thrown into the sea as food for sharks. CHAPTER IX _Francis Lolonois._ Early Life of Lolonois.--His Desperate Character.--Joins the Buccaneers.--His Fiend-like Cruelty.--The Desperadoes Rally around Him.--Equips a Fleet.--Captures Rich Prizes.--Plans the Sack of Maracaibo.--The Adventurous Voyage.--Description of Venezuela.--Atrocities at Maracaibo and Gibraltar.--Doom of the Victors.