laying about with the short swords we had provided ourselves with. For a little space the skirmish was toughly and hotly contested, for the pirates were resolute and reckless, and fought with the desperation of men who knew that the only chance for their lives lay in their own exertions. In the confusion of the fray I had lost sight of Wright, and was closely engaged with one of the Spaniards, when the voice of the boatswain, shouting forth a horrible imprecation, sounded immediately behind me. I turned round, and sprang aside from the sweep of his cutlass, and, as my pistols were both empty, retreated, acting upon the defensive, when he pulled out his, fired, and hurled the weapon at my head. The shot passed without injuring me, but the pistol, aimed with better effect, struck me full on the forehead. A thousand sparks of light flashed from my eyes, I felt myself reeling, and on the point of falling, when a cut across the shoulder stretched me at once on the ground. When I recovered from my stupor and opened my eyes, the morning was far advanced, the sun was shining bright overhead, and I found myself at sea, lying on the deck of the cutter, and Wright busily engaged in examining my wounds. From him I learned that the pirates had been mastered after a severe conflict, in which four had been slain and left on the island, two had escaped unobserved during the fight, and made off with their boat, and two had been wounded, and were prisoners on board, one of whom was Mahone. On our arrival at Porto Rico we delivered them over to the civil power, and soon afterwards Mahone was tried for the murder of the priest, when he was convicted on our evidence, condemned, and executed. Under good nursing and care I gradually recovered, and by the fall of the season, without any further adventures, I once more landed safe in Scotland. Isabella is not now that destitute and unprotected orphan whom I first saw on the middle of the western ocean, but the happy mistress of a happy home, diffusing life and gladness on all around her. My friend Wright has lately been placed on the list of post-captains, and is anxiously waiting for more bustling times, when there will be more knocking about and more hard blows and quicker promotion than can be hoped for in piping times of peace. John Wyllie, too, has had advancement in his line, being now master of one of the finest ships sailing out of the Clyde, and I have the additional satisfaction of knowing that none of the crew of the cutter have had reason to regret their having jeopardised their lives in fighting for the ‘Pirate’s Treasure,’ which proved to be of far greater value than the confession of the dying Spaniard had led me to believe. Altogether that voyage was an extraordinary one, and at this period I can look back and feel the truths of the saying that ‘Some men are born to strange destinies.’