savage-looking half-breed, a compound of negro and Indian, clad in a
gorgeous livery, each with pistol and sword, sprang into the room and
forced the two men back. As soon as he could recover himself Kempthorne
whipped out his sword. He found himself covered, however, as did the
master, with a pistol.

"Throw down your sword!" cried Morgan fiercely, "and yield yourselves
without quarter."

"Who are you that ask?"

"Sir Henry Morgan."

"You bloody villain!" cried Kempthorne. "Dare you attempt to take the
King's ship?"

"That for the King!" answered Morgan, waving his sword. "Who are you?"

"Sir John Kempthorne, Admiral and Vice-Governor of Jamaica."

"You would fain fill my station, would you, sir?"

"I would not descend to the station of a pirate, a robber, a murderer,
a----"

"S'death, silence!" roared Morgan furiously. "The ship is ours! I've a
message for the King. Wilt carry it?"

"I would not insult my royal master by carrying a message from such as
you."

"You will have it!" shouted Morgan, white with rage, lunging forward at
him.

Their blades crossed in an instant, and at the same moment the old
master, reckless of what happened, flung himself between the two. There
was a roar from Carib's pistol, and the old man fell. As Kempthorne
relaxed his guard slightly in the confusion Morgan ran him through. The
admiral fell so suddenly that he jerked the blade, buried in his breast,
out of the buccaneer's hand.

"God--" he gasped, as he lay upon the body of the old sailor, "God--save
the--King."

"Would'st sit in my place, eh?" cried Morgan, laughing truculently as
he turned on his heel and left the cabin.

Beneath the hatches, the platoon of soldiers and the men there
imprisoned were yelling and making a tremendous racket. They were
helpless, however, and could do nothing. The men of the boarding parties
were clustered in groups forward and aft and around the closed
passageways into the interior of the ship, waiting for the next order.

The noise and confusion which had followed the sentry's bold shot had
awakened the attention of the people of the town. Lights twinkled on the
ramparts of the fort, and the long roll of a drum could be heard coming
faintly up the harbor against the wind. Lord Carlingford had just
entered his boat to board the ship. There was not a moment to lose.

"Hornigold, go forward with your men to the forecastle. Velsers, come
you hither with yours for the after guard. Tea