the hands of a friendly native. It reached Anjengo at one o'clock next day,
and ran as follows:--

"Captain Sewell. We are treacherously dealt with here, therefore keep
a very good look-out of any designs on you. Have a good look to your
two Trankers,[9] We hope to be with you to-night. Take care and don't
frighten the women; we are in no great danger. Give the bearer a
Chequeen."[10]

But none of the English were to see Anjengo again. That night, or the next
morning, a sudden attack was made, the crowd surged in on the soldiers,
overwhelmed them, and cut them to pieces. The principal English were
seized and reserved for a more cruel death. In the confusion, Cowse, who
was a favourite among the natives, managed to disguise himself, got
through the crowd, and sought to reach Anjengo by a little frequented path.
By bad luck he was overtaken by a Mahommedan merchant who owed him money.
Cowse offered to acquit him of the debt, but to no purpose. He was
mercilessly killed, and thus the debt was settled. 'Stone dead hath no
fellow,' as the chronicler of his death says. The rest of the English were
tortured to death, Gyfford and the interpreter being reserved for the
worst barbarities. Ignatio Malheiros was gradually dismembered, while
Gyfford had his tongue torn out, was nailed to a log of wood, and sent
floating down the river.

It is easy to picture to one's self the consternation in Anjengo, that
12th April, when, soon after midday, Gyfford's hasty note was received,
and the same evening, when a score of wounded men (topasses) straggled in
to confirm the worst fears; 'all miserably wounded, some with 12 or 13
cutts and arrows in their bodyes to a lower number, but none without any.'
Gyfford had taken away all the able men with him, leaving in the fort only
'the dregs,' old men, boys, and pensioners, less than forty in number. At
their head were Robert Sewell, who describes himself as Storekeeper,
Captain and Adjutant by order of Governor Boone; Lieutenant Peter
Lapthorne, Ensign Thomas Davis, and Gunner Samuel Ince. The first three of
them were absolutely useless, and Gunner Ince, whose name deserves to be
remembered, was the only one of the four who rose to the situation. His
first care was for the three English women, whose husbands had just been
killed. By good fortune there happened to be in the road a small country
ship that had brought a consignment of cowries from the Maldives. Mrs.
Gyfford, fo