ng to the shore, and will be here soon, long before the
English seamen can land."
This was true. Cain was breasting the water manfully, making for a
small cove nearer to where the boat was sunk than the one in which
Francisco had landed with Clara and the wounded men, and divided from
the other by a ridge of rocks which separated the sandy beach, and
extended some way into the water before they were submerged. Francisco
could easily distinguish the pirate-captain from the other men, who also
were swimming for the beach; for Cain was far ahead of them, and as he
gained nearer to the shore he was shut from Francisco's sight by the
ridge of rocks. Francisco, anxious for his safety, climbed up the rocks
and was watching. Cain was within a few yards of the beach when there
was the report of a musket; the pirate-captain was seen to raise his
body convulsively half out of the water--he floundered--the clear blue
wave was discoloured--he sank, and was seen no more.
Francisco darted forward from the rocks, and perceived Hawkhurst,
standing beneath them with the musket in his hand, which he was
recharging.
"Villain!" exclaimed Francisco, "you shall account for this."
Hawkhurst had reprimed his musket and shut the pan.
"Not to you," replied Hawkhurst, levelling his piece, and taking aim at
Francisco.
The ball struck Francisco on the breast; he reeled back from his
position, staggered across the sand, gained the cave, and fell at the
feet of Clara.
"Oh, God!" exclaimed the poor girl, "are you hurt? who is there then, to
protect me?"
"I hardly know," replied Francisco, faintly; and, at intervals, "I feel
no wound, I feel stronger;" and Francisco put his hand to his heart.
Clara opened his vest, and found that the packet given to Francisco by
Cain, and which he had deposited in his breast, had been struck by the
bullet, which had done him no injury further than the violent concussion
of the blow--notwithstanding he was faint from the shock, and his head
fell upon Clara's bosom.
But we must relate the proceedings of those who were mixed up in this
exciting scene. Edward Templemore had watched from his vessel, with an
eager and painful curiosity, the motions of the schooner--her running on
the rocks, and the subsequent actions of the intrepid marauders. The
long telescope enabled him to perceive distinctly all that passed, and
his feelings were increased into a paroxysm of agony when his straining
eyes behe
|