Herriot's forehead, and felled the huge
buccaneer to the deck where he lay stunned, the quick red staining his
head-cloth. As the blond-haired man stepped forward to finish the
business, a long, keen, straight blade interposed, caught his cutlass in
an upward parry and at the same time pinked him painfully in the arm.

Jumping back the seaman found himself faced by the pitiless eyes of
Stede Bonnet, who had killed his last opponent and run in to save his
mate's life. That quick, darting sword baffled the sailor. Swing and
hack as he might, his blows were caught in midair and fell away
harmless, while always the relentless point drove him back and back.
Forced to the rail, he stood his ground desperately, pale and glistening
with the sweat of a man in the fear of death. Then his sword flew up,
the pirate captain stabbed him through the throat and with a dying gasp
the limp body fell backward into the sea.

Meanwhile the pirates had steadily gained ground in the hand to hand
struggle and now a bare half-dozen brave fellows held on, fighting
singly or in pairs, back to back. The brig's captain, wounded in several
places and seeing his crew in a fair way to be annihilated, flung up a
tired arm and cried for quarter. Almost at once the fighting ceased and
half the combatants, utterly exhausted, sank down among their dead and
wounded fellows. The deck was a long shambles, red from the bits to the
poop.

While the hands of the prisoners were being bound, Bonnet and all of his
men not otherwise employed hurried below to search for loot. The man who
had held the boat-hook astern left this task and greedily clambered up
the brig's side lest he should miss his chance at the booty. Job alone
stuck to his post, and motioned Jeremy to stay where he was. Cheers and
yells of joy rang from the after-hold of the merchantman where the
pirates had evidently discovered the ship's store of wine.

After a few moments Pharaoh Daggs thrust his scarred face out of the
companion, and with a fierce roar of laughter waved a black bottle above
his head. The others followed, drinking and babbling curses, and last of
all Stede Bonnet, pale, dishevelled, mad with blood and liquor, stood
bareheaded by the hatch. He raised his hand in a gesture of silence and
all the hubbub ceased. "We have beaten them!" he cried between twitching
lips. "I Captain Thomas, the chiefest of all the pirates, and my
bully-boys of the _Royal James_! We'll show 'em all! We'l