uarter. The old pirate had
saved his chief; he had enabled him to escape by the gallant way he had
held the post. He was now fighting on his own account for revenge, and
to sell his life as dearly as he could. He was determined the victory
the British had obtained should not be bought cheaply; he and his men
worked the guns with the greatest courage; while one party were engaged
in loading them, the others would rush forward and defend them, and then
retire at the moment they were fired, and be at their posts again before
the British could reach them.

Their numbers were being gradually thinned; but, in the meantime, they
were committing great havoc; and the ground in front of their
entrenchment was strewed with the dead and dying marines and seamen, who
had, with equal gallantry and true courage, ventured to attack them.
The numbers of the British seemed, to Fleetwood, to be awfully
decreased; the marines and a few seamen only appearing to keep the
pirates in check, when a loud shout proclaimed the cause of it; and he
saw Colonel Gauntlett at the head of a large party, dragging forward one
of the guns from another part of the fort. They halted, and, opening on
either side, the gun was fired directly at the centre of the gang of
pirates.

"Now, on, my friends!" shouted the colonel.

"On, on!" cried the lieutenant; and, at the same moment, Fleetwood led
on his party towards the devoted desperadoes. Not one cried for
quarter; but they could not, for an instant, withstand such an attack;
every one was cut down or driven towards the edge of the cliff, where,
still inspired by their desire of revenge, they seized their opponents,
and endeavoured to drag them over with themselves. Almost the last
survivor was old Vlacco; and exerting all the remaining strength which
age had left him, for he was still unwounded, he fixed his death grasp
on the arm of one of the foremost of his assailants; slowly he stepped
back, as he was forced to retreat, enticing his antagonist on, till,
feeling his left foot over the edge, he sprang forward to grasp him.

"In Heaven's name, hold me back!" shouted a voice, which Captain
Fleetwood thought he recognised as Bowse's. The old pirate threw
himself back with all his might, in the hopes of overbalancing the man
whose arm he held, and dragging him with him. For himself he had no
hope, no expectation but instant death, and the gratification of his
revenge against one of those who had caus