For an hour or more did these demons revel in this horrid spectacle of cruelty and blood. Those who did not kill each other were ruthlessly murdered by the Skeleton Crew, so that the servants’ hall presented a sickly and revolting sight, with the dead and dying lying around in all directions. While the barbarous chief and his demon band were rejoicing at this human slaughter they drank deep of wine, and were roused up to a fiery pitch with the bloody work around them. “Hurrah for the Skeleton Crew! the Scourge of the Seas!” said the chief, tossing off more wine. “In another hour old Sir Richard, and his braggart lad, Wildfire Ned, as he is called, will be no more. The old hag at the gibbet says the boy has a charmed life, but we shall quickly see. Ha! ha! there is no charm against cold steel, my lads!” While thus he drank and laughed aloud in mocking tones he suddenly rose to his feet in alarm. He drew his ponderous sword, and with fiery eyes listened! A loud noise was now heard without. The heavy doors were forced open with a crash! With a loud and ringing cheer, there dashed in upon them fifty bold British tars, pistol and sword in hand, led on by Lieutenant Garnet and Wildfire Ned! Death-wing (for such the Skeleton Chief was called), with a sudden bound, leaped from his high seat, sword in hand. “Treachery!” he cried, and dashed upon Wildfire Ned, with bitter curses on his lips. The conflict on all sides was dreadful. Lieut. Garnet and his men did all that men could do, and performed prodigies of valour. But their weapons did not seem to make any impression upon the Skeleton Crew. Guns and pistols were fired at them, but all in vain. The clash of swords and the gleam of daggers was heard and seen on every hand. More than one of the gallant sailors was struck down by their ghostly foes. “Death to them all, and spare not!” shouted Death-wing, the Skeleton Chief, with a loud laugh of triumph. His ponderous sword swept through the air like a lightning flash. On all sides he cut with unerring aim; but though he assailed Wildfire Ned with the fury of a demon, he could not slay him. In rage and disappointment he growled, “This brat must have a charmed life; on to him, men, on to him, cut him limb from limb!” With a shout of defiance Wildfire Ned met the onslaught of more of the Skeleton Crew. But he handled his sword with such quickness and precision that he gallantly beat them back. The tide of battle ebbed and flowed. Success for a moment attended the Skeleton Crew, and they drove the sailors to the wall. In an instant, however, and as if by magic, Wildfire Ned dashed again to the front. “They are beaten!” he cried; “they give ground! Down with the demons! scatter their ghastly bones! Follow me!” It was quite true. The Skeleton Band did give way. They had never met with such a fierce resistance before in all their lives. They retreated in dumb terror before Wildfire Ned.