A loud splash in the water told that the pirate had gone over the side,
and every now and then a similar splash, with a "Yeo, heave ho!" from
forward, marked the fate of a fallen Malay.

Carefully and gently Isabel was lifted from the deck and borne below by
the steward and Hughes. Dom Maxara was forward, staunching a severe
wound from a Malay creese in the shoulder. Wyzinski, who during the
hand-to-hand combat had fought like a tiger, and received a stab in the
leg, now remembered he was a missionary, and, though weak with loss of
blood, was engaged smoothing the passage of one of the crew from the
world his soul was quitting. Four men killed, and almost every one of
the crew wounded, three severely, were the casualties on board the brig,
while those among the pirates were never known, but must have been very
severe.

The Malay had dealt his blow wildly, his intention being revenge, for
Hughes's grip held him by the throat, and the savage pirate was choking
as he struck. The creese had entered Isabel's arm above the elbow,
making a nasty jagged wound.

They placed her on the crimson cushions in the cabin, Masters, the
steward, bathing her head with water, while the wounded arm hung down,
the soldier kneeling near her, and doing his best to bandage it. His
was a curious figure as he knelt by her side, for both face and hands
were nearly black with the powder and smoke, his dress torn in many
places, and what had been a shirt showing very many tokens of the bulky
pirate's terrible grip. All this was forgotten in the anxiety of the
moment, and there the two were in the almost deserted cabin eagerly
waiting for returning consciousness. Isabel's face was pale and
bloodless, and her teeth firmly clenched. There was no doctor on board
the brig.

"Masters, I wish you would step on deck," said Hughes, "and send
Wyzinski here."

"Ay, ay, sir," replied the man, rising, and handing the basin and sponge
to Hughes.

"And, Masters, just ask Captain Weber for some arnica."

The man disappeared up the hatchway. On deck all was bustle, the crew
being busily engaged removing the traces of the late bloody affair. He
found the missionary forward, but unable to leave a wounded seaman, so
Masters knelt by his side and joined in the fervent but simple prayer
over the dying man. An oil lamp gave out a feeble light in the
fore-cabin, showing in one corner a large white sail. The heavy folds
covered something, which bulg