said, with a smile. "I've got my death. And
Death a'nt life. Is it, Gill?"

Having helped to lay his poor body on one
side, I went back to my post. Serjeant
Drooce looked at me, with his eyebrows a
little lifted. I nodded. "Close up here, men,
and gentlemen all!" said the Serjeant.
"A place too many, in the line."

The Pirates were so close upon us at this
time, that the foremost of them were already
before the gate. More and more came up
with a great noise, and shouting loudly.
When we believed from the sound that they
were all there, we gave three English cheers.
The poor little children joined, and were so
fully convinced of our being at play, that
they enjoyed the noise, and were heard
clapping their hands in the silence that followed.

Our disposition was this, beginning with
the rear. Mrs. Venning, holding her daughter's
child in her arms, sat on the steps of the
little square trench surrounding the silver-
house, encouraging and directing those women
and children as she might have done in the
happiest and easiest time of her life. Then,
there was an armed line, under Mr. Macey,
across the width of the enclosure, facing that
way and having their backs towards the gate,
in order that they might watch the walls
and prevent our being taken by surprise.
Then, there was a space of eight or ten feet
deep, in which the spare arms were, and in
which Miss Maryon and Mrs. Fisher, their
hands and dresses blackened with the spoilt
gunpowder, worked on their knees, tying
such things as knives, old bayonets, and
spear-heads, to the muzzles of the useless
muskets. Then, there was a second armed
line, under Serjeant Drooce, also across the
width of the enclosure, but facing to the
gate. Then, came the breastwork we had
made, with a zig-zag way through it for me
and my little party to hold good in retreating,
as long as we could, when we were
driven from the gate. We all knew that
it was impossible to hold the place long,
and that our only hope was in the timely
discovery of the plot by the boats, and in
their coming back.

I and my men were now thrown forward
to the gate. From a spy-hole, I could see the
whole crowd of Pirates. There were Malays
among them, Dutch, Maltese, Greeks, Sambos,
Negroes, and Convict Englishmen from the
West India Islands; among the last, him
with the one eye and the patch across the
nose. There were some Portuguese, too, and
a few Spaniards. The captain was a
Portuguese; a little man with very large ear-rings
under a very broad hat, and a great bright
shawl twisted about his shoulders. They
were all strongly armed, but like a boarding
party, with pikes, swords, cutlasses, and axes.
I noticed a good many pistols, but not a gun
of any kind among them. This gave me to
understand that they had considered that a
continued roll of musketry might perhaps
have been heard on the mainland; also, that
for the reason that fire would be seen from
the mainland they would not set the Fort
in flames and roast us alive; which was one
of their favorite ways of carrying on. I
looked about for Christian George King,
and if I had seen him I am much mistaken
if he would not have received my one round
of ball-cartridge in his head. But, no
Christian George King was visible.

A sort of a wild Portuguese demon, who
seemed either fierce-mad or fierce-drunk—
but, they all seemed one or the other—came
forward with the black flag, and gave it a
wave or two. After that, the Portuguese
captain called out in shrill English. "I say you!
English fools! Open the gate! Surrender!"

As we kept close and quiet, he said
something to his men which I didn't understand,
and when he had said it, the one-eyed
English rascal with the patch (who had stepped
out when he began), said it again in English.
It was only this. "Boys of the black flag,
this is to be quickly done. Take all the
prisoners you can. If they don't yield, kill
the children to make them. Forward!"
Then, they all came on at the gate, and, in
another half minute were smashing and
splitting it in.

We struck at them through the gaps and
shivers, and we dropped many of them, too;
but, their very weight would have carried
such a gate, if they had been unarmed.
I soon found Serjeant Drooce at my side,
forming us six remaining marines in line
—Tom Packer next to me—and ordering
us to fall back three paces, and, as they
broke in, to give them our one little volley
at short distance. "Then," says he, "receive
them behind your breastwork on the bayonet,
and at least let every man of you pin one of
the cursed cockchafers through the body."

We checked them by our fire, slight as it
was, and we checked them at the
breastwork. However, they broke over it like
swarms of devils—they were, really and
truly, more devils than men—and then it
was hand to hand, indeed.

We clubbed our muskets and laid about
us; even then, those two ladies—always
behind me—were steady and ready with the
arms. I had a lot of Maltese and Malays
upon me, and, but for a broadsword that
Miss Maryon's own hand put in mine, should
have got my end from them. But, was that
all? No. I saw a heap of banded dark hair
and a white dress come thrice between me
and them, under my own raised right arm,
which each time might have destroyed the
wearer of the white dress; and each time one
of the lot went down, struck dead.

Drooce was armed with a broad-sword,
too, and did such things with it, that there
was a cry, in half-a dozen languages, of
"Kill that serjeant! "as I knew, by the cry
being raised in English, and taken up in
other tongues. I had received a severe cut