When Captain Hughes reached the deck, he at once saw that if their chance of escape before was small, it had greatly diminished. An eighteen-pound shot had buried itself in the heart of the main-topmast, the wind was coming in hot puffs from the land, and the sails just at that moment feeling a heavier strain than usual, the wounded mast had gone over the side with a loud crash, carrying with it sails and yards, and now floated astern clear of the brig, leaving her running before the wind, with only her main fore and fore-topmast standing, the stump of a splintered spar marking what had been a stout main-topmast. To windward lay the wicked-looking schooner which had done all the mischief, and astern the dark, dense, ragged mass of clouds from which the heavy puffs came now and then moaning over the sea. A hot haze had crept over the ocean, not having the appearance of clouds, but still veiling the sun. "See," said Captain Weber, laying his hand on Hughes' shoulder, pointing to the schooner as he did so; "see, she hauls down her main tack, and is running down to us; she has us completely at her mercy." "Can we do nothing with our guns, Captain Weber?" "Yes, we may fire them once as the villains board. You see all is ready." The captain pointed to the two nine-pounders, which were loaded to the muzzle. The men were armed, and went about their duties with a dogged sullenness which showed their stern determination. "Lowe will have charge of the forecastle, and I, with your friend, take the quarter-deck, the crew being equally divided." "You will let me fight by your side?" replied the soldier. "Not so," answered the old seaman. "Yours is a sterner duty. Any one can fight when his blood is up, and death sure, whatever happen. I am going to lower the Spanish Don and his daughter into the hold, and your station will be beside them." "And do you for a moment think I am going to be shut up like a bandicoot in a hole, while others fight for life and liberty?" indignantly asked the soldier. Captain Weber grasped Hughes by the hand, looking into his face, and pointing to the schooner as he spoke: "The crew of yonder pirate are not human beings. They are steeped in murder and crime. Our fate is death, sure and certain death. Maddened by the destruction of their comrades, by their defeat in yonder Bay, no torments will be spared us. It will not be simply walking the plank, but the worst torture those practised villains can invent, which awaits us." "Look at her white sails, and tapering spars, how beautiful she is, as she sheers down on us. Is all this possible?" "More is possible," replied the master, "Death will be our fate, but not the lady's. A life-long servitude of the vilest description on board yon floating hell will be her fate!"