approved of Dick's notion, and only wished that the slaver's
crew would come back, that he might carry it into execution. They both
had been so busy that they had not thought of the poor wretched
Spaniard. Suddenly Jack recollected him. He had been placed in the
shade, under the poop-deck. He was still breathing.

"_Eu moro de sede_ (I die of thirst, I die of thirst)," groaned the
miserable man, showing his glazed eyes. His parched lips showed how
much he was suffering.

"Dick, bring some water for this poor fellow," cried Rogers.

"Oh! senhor, you are very kind. I am a wretch, I know; but, as I hope
to be forgiven, I forgive the man who shot me."

These were very nearly the last words the Spaniard uttered. A cry from
Needham called Jack out on deck. There appeared on the beach the whole
crew of the slaver, and in addition some twenty or thirty others, white
men and negroes. They evidently did not perceive that anybody was on
board, and began deliberately to launch the boat by which they had
reached the shore, and which Terence had neglected to tow off before he
left the brig. Jack waited till they had shoved off.

"Now, Dick," said he, creeping to one of the ports, "stand by to load,
and hand me the rifles while I--do my duty." He was going to say, "pick
them off."

Shot succeeded shot, and three men were hit before the pirates knew
where their enemies were concealed. The boat was seen to put back, the
people in her leaping in a desperate hurry on shore.

"It won't do to let them fancy that they are safe yet," cried Jack.
"Hand me another rifle." He continued firing away, seldom failing to
hit the man he aimed at.

"Hurrah! hurrah!" shouted Needham. "They are running off, they are
running off." So they were, but they had not gone far before a man was
seen galloping up on horseback. Jack thought he looked remarkably like
Don Diogo. He began striking right and left with a sword at the
fugitives, and was evidently urging them to make an attempt to regain
the brig. At last he succeeded in inducing another party to embark, but
he himself remained on shore. Several times Jack had aimed at him, but
he seemed to bear a charmed life. None of the bullets took effect.
Jack was afraid of firing at him again, for his rifle ammunition was
almost expended. Finding the firing cease, the pirates gained courage
and pulled boldly towards the brig.

"Now's the time for our dose of langrage, sir," cried Needh