Walter Scott - The Pirate

“I surrender to no man,” said the Pirate-captain; “but you may see I have thrown away my weapons.”

He was immediately seized by some of the Orcadians without his offering any resistance; but the instant interference of Mordaunt prevented his being roughly treated, or bound. The victors conducted him to a well-secured upper apartment in the House of Stennis, and placed a sentinel at the door. Bunce and Fletcher, both of whom had been stretched on the field during the skirmish, were lodged in the same chamber; and two prisoners, who appeared of lower rank, were confined in a vault belonging to the mansion.

Without pretending to describe the joy of Magnus Troil, who, when awakened by the noise and firing, found his daughters safe, and his enemy a prisoner, we shall only say, it was so great, that he forgot, for the time at least, to enquire what circumstances were those which had placed them in danger; that he hugged Mordaunt to his breast a thousand times, as their preserver; and swore as often by the bones of his sainted namesake, that if he had a thousand daughters, so tight a lad, and so true a friend, should have the choice of them, let Lady Glowrowrum say what she would.

A very different scene was passing in the prison-chamber of the unfortunate Cleveland and his associates. The Captain sat by the window, his eyes bent on the prospect of the sea which it presented, and was seemingly so intent on it, as to be insensible of the presence of the others. Jack Bunce stood meditating some ends of verse, in order to make his advances towards a reconciliation with Cleveland; for he began to be sensible, from the consequences, that the part he had played towards his Captain, however well intended, was neither lucky in its issue, nor likely to be well taken. His admirer and adherent Fletcher lay half asleep, as it seemed, on a truckle-bed in the room, without the least attempt to interfere in the conversation which ensued.

“Nay, but speak to me, Clement,” said the penitent Lieutenant, “if it be but to swear at me for my stupidity!

“I prithee peace, and be gone!” said Cleveland; “I have one bosom friend left yet, and you will make me bestow its contents on you, or on myself.”

“I have it!” said Bunce, “I have it!” and on he went in the vein of Jaffier—

“I pray you once more to be silent,” said Cleveland—“Is it not enough that you have undone me with your treachery, but you must stun me with your silly buffoonery?—I would not have believed you would have lifted a finger against me, Jack, of any man or devil in yonder unhappy ship.”

“Who, I?” exclaimed Bunce, “I lift a finger against you!—and if I did, it was in pure love, and to make you the happiest fellow that ever trode a deck, with your mistress beside you, and fifty fine fellows at your command. Here is Dick Fletcher can bear witness I did all for the best, if he would but speak, instead of lolloping there like a Dutch dogger laid up to be careened.—Get up, Dick, and speak for me, won’t you?”

“Why, yes, Jack Bunce,” answered Fletcher, raising himself with difficulty, and speaking feebly, “I will if I can—and I always knew you spoke and did for the best—but howsomdever, d’ye see, it has turned out for the worst for me this time, for I am bleeding to death, I think.”

“You cannot be such an ass!” said Jack Bunce, springing to his assistance, as did Cleveland. But human aid came too late—he sunk back on the bed, and, turning on his face, expired without a groan.

“I always thought him a d—d fool,” said Bunce, as he wiped a tear from his eye, “but never such a consummate idiot as to hop the perch so sillily. I have lost the best follower”—and he again wiped his eye.

Cleveland looked on the dead body, the rugged features of which had remained unaltered by the death-pang—“A bull-dog,” he said, “of the true British breed, and, with a better counsellor, would have been a better man.”

“You may say that of some other folks, too, Captain, if you are minded to do them justice,” said Bunce.

“I may indeed, and especially of yourself,” said Cleveland, in reply.

“Why then, say, Jack, I forgive you ,” said Bunce; “it’s but a short word, and soon spoken.”

“I forgive you from all my soul, Jack,” said Cleveland, who had resumed his situation at the window; “and the rather that your folly is of little consequence—the morning is come that must bring ruin on us all.”

“What! you are thinking of the old woman’s prophecy you spoke of?” said Bunce.

“It will soon be accomplished,” answered Cleveland. “Come hither; what do you take yon large square-rigged vessel for, that you see doubling the headland on the east, and opening the Bay of Stromness?”

“Why, I can’t make her well out,” said Bunce, “but yonder is old Goffe, takes her for a West Indiaman loaded with rum and sugar, I suppose, for d—n me if he does not slip cable, and stand out to her!”

“Instead of running into the shoal-water, which was his only safety,” said Cleveland—“The fool! the dotard! the drivelling, drunken idiot!—he will get his flip hot enough; for yon is the Halcyon—See, she hoists her colours and fires a broadside! and there will soon be an end of the Fortune’s Favourite! I only hope they will fight her to the last plank. The Boatswain used to be stanch enough, and so is Goffe, though an incarnate demon.—Now she shoots away, with all the sail she can spread, and that shows some sense.”

“Up goes the Jolly Hodge, the old black flag, with the death’s head and hour-glass, and that shows some spunk,” added his comrade.

“The hour-glass is turned for us, Jack, for this bout—our sand is running fast.—Fire away yet, my roving lads! The deep sea or the blue sky, rather than a rope and a yard-arm!”

There was a moment of anxious and dead silence; the sloop, though hard pressed, maintaining still a running fight, and the frigate continuing in full chase, but scarce returning a shot. At length the vessels neared each other, so as to show that the man-of-war intended to board the sloop, instead of sinking her, probably to secure the plunder which might be in the pirate vessel.

“Now, Goffe—now, Boatswain!” exclaimed Cleveland, in an ecstasy of impatience, and as if they could have heard his commands, “stand by sheets and tacks—rake her with a broadside, when you are under her bows, then about ship, and go off on the other tack like a wild-goose. The sails shiver—the helm’s a-lee—Ah!—deep-sea sink the lubbers!—they miss stays, and the frigate runs them aboard!”

Accordingly, the various manœuvres of the chase had brought them so near, that Cleveland, with his spy-glass, could see the man-of-war’s-men boarding by the yards and bowsprit, in irresistible numbers, their naked cutlasses flashing in the sun, when, at that critical moment, both ships were enveloped in a cloud of thick black smoke, which suddenly arose on board the captured pirate.

“Exeunt omnes!” said Bunce, with clasped hands.

“There went the Fortune’s Favourite, ship and crew!” said Cleveland, at the same instant.

But the smoke immediately clearing away, showed that the damage had only been partial, and that, from want of a sufficient quantity of powder, the pirates had failed in their desperate attempt to blow up their vessel with the Halcyon.

Shortly after the action was over, Captain Weatherport of the Halcyon sent an officer and a party of marines to the House of Stennis, to demand from the little garrison the pirate seamen who were their prisoners, and, in particular, Cleveland and Bunce, who acted as Captain and Lieutenant of the gang.