The pirates returned to their vessel discomfited. Those on board, who were prepared to hoist in ingots of precious metal, had to receive nought but wounded men, and many of their comrades had remained dead on the shore. Their captain was melancholy and downcast. Hawkhurst was badly wounded, and obliged to be carried below as soon as he came on board. The only capture which they had made was their former associate Francisco, who, by the last words spoken by Hawkhurst as he was supported to his cabin, was ordered to be put in irons. The boats were hoisted in without noise, and a general gloom prevailed. All sail was then made upon the schooner, and when day dawned she was seen by the Spaniards far away to the northward. The report was soon spread through the schooner that Francisco had been the cause of their defeat; and although this was only a surmise, still, as they considered that had he not recognised the vessel the Spaniards would not have been prepared, they had good grounds for what had swelled into an assertion. He became, therefore, to many of them, an object of bitter enmity, and they looked forward with pleasure to his destruction, which his present confinement they considered but the precursor of. 'Hist! Massa Francisco,' said a low voice near to where Francisco sat on the chest. Francisco turned round and beheld the Krouman, his old friend. 'Ah! Pompey, are you all still on board?' said Francisco. 'All! no,' replied the man, shaking his head; 'some die--some get away--only four Kroumen left. Massa Francisco, how you come back again? Everybody tink you dead. I say no, not dead--ab charm with him--ab book.' 'If that was my charm, I have it still,' replied Francisco, taking the Bible out of his vest; for, strange to say, Francisco himself had a kind of superstition relative to that Bible, and had put it into his bosom previous to the attack made by the pirates. 'Dat very good, Massa Francisco; den you quite safe. Here come Johnson--he very bad man. I go away.'